Her Burning Heart
by JetNoir
Summary: A figure steeped in mystery and tragedy, Lilia Derevko fought to earn a respected position within the FBI. But as the story of her life unfolds, it seems that there is a dark and sinister meaning locked deeply within her burning heart…
1. 15th April 1982

_'He woke her then and trembling and obedient_

_She ate that burning heart out of his hand;_

_Weeping I saw him then depart from me.'_

_**La Vita Nuova, Dante Alighieri.**_

**HER BURNING HEART**

**The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **This story has been written especially for Penelope S. Cartwright, who asked me to try and give the back-story of Lilia. I'm not sure if this is what anybody else will like, but I'm going to try my best. I've given this a moderate rating, as the first chapter is moderately benign, though it contains some threats of violence; but I have a feeling it could get more macabre, warranting a stricter rating! Also, please assume that everyone is speaking in Russian, although I'm afraid I don't know any (and writing in two languages simultaneously would be a real pain!)

CHAPTER ONE: 15th April 1982

St. Petersburg

When she was seven years old, Lilia Derevko first saw a man killed.

It was her father that had pulled the trigger, and weeping she ran home. She had just come away from ballet training, something she hated, but endured because she knew how it made her mother happy. Her grandmother had been a dancer, and if she though about it, her mother could sometimes see _her_ mother swirling to the sound of Tchaikovsky. Lilia's interests ran in another direction. Not the stylistic sensibilities of art, but the steely cold facts of science.

"Lilia!" bellowed her father, far behind her, "Lilia! Get back here now!" But Lilia wasn't listening, and on she ran, through dirty streets, the late snow starting to melt, the pure white, dirtied by mud, slowly disappearing.

That man. He had been alive. Then the next minute he hadn't been.

Her father was a _murderer._

Tears flooded down her face, and yet she didn't know what to do. Dare she go home? Face her father, and beg for the protection of her mother?

Yet she had the experiment.

That settled it. With no-where else to go, home it had to be.

"Mummy!" As soon as she ran through the door, Lilia's mother rushed towards her, and started gabbling, seeing Lilia's tears;

"Lilia! What is it? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Daddy…he…he's,"

"Done what sweetheart?"

"He's killed someone!" Lilia broke down into a sobbing fit.

"And you saw this," said her mother, "I'll _kill_ him!"

"Mummy," cried Lilia, shocked, "you can't!"

"Just a figure of speech, sweetheart. But we're going to have words."

But when her father stormed through the door, a few hours later, those words were never spoken.

"Where is he?" he bellowed, "Lilia!"

Lilia's mother stepped in front of him:

"You've been drinking."

"So?"

"So! You promised Constantine. You promised your other work wouldn't involve her!"

"Don't you understand Anna? If she goes to the police, they will find out. They will kill her, and they will kill you. And I will languish in jail. Where is she?"

Anna Derevko remained silent.

"She'd better be upstairs!" snapped Constantine, barging past his wife, and going into Lilia's bedroom without knocking.

Lilia's eyes widened at the sight of her father, not quite in fear, but not in trust.

"Lilia," he began, speaking softly, dangerously, "why did you run away from me? Disobey me?" Lilia remained silent.

"I know what you saw me do. It's time for you to face up to reality. Where do you think all the money for the dance lessons comes from? They're expensive. Why do you think we eat so well? Who do you think has that kind of money?"

"Mafia?" Lilia murmured. Her father nodded:

"Yes. The Mafia. I work for honourably people, and they favour me in return. But Lilia…other people don't see the world as I do. As we do…as a family. You cannot tell anyone. Not one of your friends, nobody. Lilia…I'm deadly serious. If you do…I'll cut your little finger off. Do you understand?"

Lilia shrieked, and frantically scrabbled backwards, hiding her hands.

"And you know that I will," said her father as he walked out the door.

-

Lilia Derevko never told a soul about her father's crime, at least, not until much later.

She never went to another dance lesson again…

* * *

**Note:** Right, sorry about the sudden ending, but I think writing about Lilia's entire life is going to be extraordinarily difficult – if not impossible, so this is going to be a tad episodic. This is obviously going to be about Lilia, but if you keep reading, you should see some familiar faces. This has also been published simultaneously with two other Hannibal fics, that all intertwine, as a sort of celebration of my first year as a fanfic author! Anyway, hoped you enjoyed it, and please review!

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	2. 1st May 1982

"They say,_ here's the truth_, and I say, _is that all there is?_ And they say,_ kind of. Pretty much. As far as we know…"_

_**Goliath, by Neil Gaiman**_

**HER BURNING HEART**

**The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

CHAPTER TWO: 1st May 1982

St. Petersburg

The Teacher was talking, but Lilia wasn't listening. Her mind was on more interesting possibilities.

She wasn't a fan of poetry…give her a good novel any day. Don't get her wrong, poetry had its place, but she'd rather have something longer. Then she laughed when she thought of Dante Alighieri. Short? Hardly.

That laugh wasn't the best idea (or more realistically, reaction) she'd ever have.

"Miss Derevko? Is there something that you want to share with the rest of the class?"

The usual cliché. Typical. A safe response that you could expect. Probably what was written in the handbook. If there was one, that is…

Lilia put her nice face on, and smiled brightly.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked politely. The Teacher just glared.

"That laugh, Miss Derevko. I am talking about the important history of our beloved _Rodina_…and all you can do is laugh!"

"Important?" asked Lilia, smile slowly slipping, "Important? More like tragic! We are stuck in this dingy room, on a beautiful day." She gestured wildly towards the window, as she stood up, "and we are here listening to the past…when we should be building towards the future! We are locked in a silent war with the Americans, and yet…what do we ordinary people care? All that's necessary is that we live in a world that can be made better! Why should this war that is cold affect us?"

"You've got a smart mouth, Miss Derevko. In a few years time, you are the sort of person that would easily be arrested. Is that what you want?"

Lilia smiled.

Tokyo

To get off topic slightly…

The world history might have being taught to students in St. Petersburg…and around the world, but the world also has another history. A secret one.

And so, today, begun The Organisation. Only a few would know about it, and even less knew its name. Its history; its secret history would start to blend with that of reality.

Yet that would come later.

Much, _much_, later.

St. Petersburg

Okay, we're back.

Lilia is now standing, and moving slowly forward.

"What I want? To be arrested? I would have to respond to that in the negative. You would call for my arrest? There's a phone in the office. Call the police. Or perhaps they might be more interested in you? In your…ahem…extra-curricular activities with the Headmaster?"

"You…you little bitch!" yelled the Teacher, "how dare you accuse me of something like this!" Lilia just smiled. And continued.

"What about your involvement with the drug trade? Trafficking humans? You're not going to tell _anyone_ about my anti-revolutionary thoughts, because I'm not going to tell anyone about your criminal activities." Turning towards her classmates she frowned:

"And you are going to forget everything I've ever said. Remember…secrets equal power. The knowledge will always be more powerful."

The teacher frowned heavily, and went and sat down behind her desk, slumping heavily, and defeated.

Lilia was changing. Not many seven year olds successfully blackmail anyone.

-

At least her classmates never talked about it to anyone…but then again they never had a chance.

Lilia's class teacher resigned the next day.

Lilia never told anyone quite how she found out the incriminating behaviour. That was another secret. Her mind was working overdrive as she realised that this…and other information…could be rapidly turned to her advantage.

Life was looking up.

**

* * *

Note: I suppose these opening 'episodes' (!) are to sort of demonstrate how vulnerable, yet powerful Lilia is – even as a seven year old – and this is probably the defining feature of her as a person. Rodina, for those of you who don't know, is Russian for 'motherland', and is the only word I actually know! Hope you enjoyed it, next chapters of Hole In The Head, and DayNight will be coming shortly, and as always, please review.**

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	3. 28th October 1982

"_What do you tell a woman with two black eyes? Nothing you haven't already told her twice."_

_**Angel: Billy (written by Tim Minear and Jeffrey Bell)**_

**HER BURNING HEART**

**The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **I'm bumping the rating up for this chapter, as it contains some scenes of domestic abuse…something I utterly despise, and feel nothing but contempt for the men and women who commit this terrible crime. The 'finger' is finally about to be explained, but I feel this is going to get darker for a bit…and then I'll lighten it again! Writing about the origin of a serial-killer (albeit fictional) is _very_ surreal, but I hope you're enjoying it.

CHAPTER THREE: 28th October 1982

St. Petersburg

11:00pm

"You're still haunted by that night," said Constantine Derevko; to his daughter Lilia, "aren't you." Lilia glared fiercely at her father, and refused to answer.

Constantine took this surprising well. Lilia might have been learning about power, and the necessity for secrets, but she still hated – and feared – her father.

Constantine's drinking had increased dramatically, since his brutal crime of murder was witnessed by his daughter, and when he rolled in, late, his wife, Anna, feared his vicious hand. Worse, she feared for her daughter, and her safety. She knew what could happen. If it came to the worst.

10:30pm

It had happened again tonight. Anna winced, and bit her mouth, to stop herself from crying out in pain. She hated this, the indignity, the humiliation, _the pain_. Why didn't it stop? Why couldn't it stop!

11:00pm continued

"Not answering?" asked Constantine, "Well fine. At least you're listening. I'm going to tell you something. Back then…on that night, I threatened to cut your little finger off. Do you remember?" Lilia nodded. "Good. Well, the worst thing you can do to a human being…is cut their little finger off. It's simple. The human soul, its condition, if you will, is located in the little finger of each human being."

Lilia's eyes widened, as her head drooped. She knew what was coming.

"The human soul is gone. Poof. Like that. And then the body just withers away. Do you want that to happen to you Lilia?"

He began to crouch beside her, his previously drunken face softening.

"Yes, I work for criminals. At least that's how others perceive it. As I see it, to hell with other peoples perceptions. They are honourable men, and I am proud to call them my friends. I do it of my own free will however…and I only want the best for you and your mother."

"So why do you hit her?" spat Lilia, "You're nothing but a two-bit thug, a petty man, who-"

"Enough," whispered Constantine, "enough. Do you realise how privileged you were? You could have been the greatest Prima Ballerina, this country has ever seen…and you throw it back in my face!"

"I refuse to dance," whispered Lilia, "in a pool soaked with blood."

Her Father grunted…not understanding. Neither did Lilia, at least not then. Time seems to be what everything needs, and time can heal most wounds – at least, that was what her Father understood.

Again, her father left her; her mother lay asleep, on a tear-stained pillow; and all Lilia wanted was out of this living hell.

12:00am

--

But Lilia found an escape. The precisions of science, was all that kept her sane for the next two years. For in the year of a George Orwell novel, Lilia found a Big Brother watching her.

It was a random act, not born out of kindness, yet not out of spite. It simply was. Lilia sat in the St Petersburg library, reading _La Vita Nuova, _by Dante Alighieri. Then it hit her, clear as day. An escape, locked within science…pulsing with spirituality and sensuality. The choice would place her on a collision course, just under twenty years later, with whom some describe as the darkest of all minds.

Avoiding the Ministry of Intelligence – or rather the KGB…she would make them fear her.

That is how the legend of the Revenant began…

* * *

**Note:** Apologies if you found any of that upsetting, but it sort of needed to be there. The next chapter is going to be pretty crucial in the storyline. Please could I have feedback on the chronological aspects of this chapter, whether you preferred it, or found it confusing or whatever. I'm trying lots of different things, to see if something works. I've got the next three chapters roughly plotted – so with a bit of luck they should be up shortly. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	4. First Blood

'_Vengeance is mine; I will repay'_

_**Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy**_

**HER BURNING HEART**

**The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note:** Last chapter was a bit of an experiment, with the domestic abuse, and the pseudo-24 format. This is more in line with the other chapters, and is quite an important section – as you are about to find out. Contains violent and gory scenes.

CHAPTER FOUR: First Blood

In memories, we are beyond the fluidic present. With time, in our desperate search for the truth, sometimes, something's may inadvertently get lost.

In the memory of a human life, it is completely impossible to memorize everything…but some stories are less easily forgotten…and some dreams are worth more than others.

I think that many people, both in this savage world of terrorism and murder…and some who read this account – forget that Lilia was first and foremost a victim. I don't believe she chose the life she led. I don't think she could have. She suffered. The world paid the price for her many betrayals. Not that I'm justifying her actions. However.

Most people believe serial-murderers to be the embodiment of all that is evil. That is probably true. Most people believe serial-murderer to be psychopathic, viscous, cruel, monsters. Again, that is probably true. Take Dr Hannibal 'the Cannibal' Lecter for example. We all know how that turned out.

In the present day, our fluidic space of time, Lilia could be sadistic…but what might be viewed as sadism, might be ritual: drummed into her skull when she was but seven. Yet when she first killed, it was hardly intentional. Then again…maybe she shouldn't have been carrying that knife.

No matter what the consequences, Lilia Derevko, would forever lose her innocence at the age of ten years old.

sometime in 1985

St. Petersburg

They say you never forget the first man you kill.

Man. That's an exaggeration.

It was almost dark, when Lilia left the city's vast library. It had become her favourite haunt, learning more secrets with each passing day. She studied with a passion and vigour, planning for the future, all the while longing to escape the dreary life she was forever locked in. She barely spoke to her parents now, and she much preferred it. When she didn't have her nose in a book, all that occupied her time was school, and avoiding her parents. Lilia didn't have friends. She didn't need them.

Her father barely noticed. If it were today, someone would tell him he was drinking himself to an early death. No one cared.

Her mother was more concerned however. Anna Derevko tried desperately to get her studious and introverted daughter to spend some time with children her own age. But the children barely understood Lilia, so far ahead she was; and they all bored her.

As Lilia was walking, she deftly pulled her warm coat closer around her. It was cold, and juggling a large pile of borrowed books, with cold hand isn't easy. Her mind was set on an experiment she had been planning. Dissection. The books preferred one specific method…yet she had some ideas on how to improve it.

These thoughts were not on what lay ahead, and she walked home automatically, as if on autopilot.

She didn't notice the cliché. Darkened alley. Large ugly man. Seriously.

"Where you going, brat?" the man snarled, snatching her arm, making Lilia drop all her books, "don't struggle…and I'll be real gentle. Scream, and I'll slit your bloody throat." He pulled her to the corner, holding the knife to her throat; "This'll only take a minute."

Lilia realised he wasn't going to rob her.

She didn't want to stay to find out quite what he had planned. Remaining perfectly calm, she slowly slid out a concealed knife, sharp, and moderately long. Twisting out form under the man's grip, she ducked the savage sweep of the man's blade, and lashed out, striking from one side of his belly to the other. A thick slit opened in the man's shirt, which was mirrored rapidly by his opening flesh. Intestines slid out in a warm and gushy mess, falling to the floor. The man groaned in pain, as his free hand slid over the red and yellow tubes.

"You little-!" We never would find out what the man said next, as Lilia leaped up, and plunged the knife deep into his heart. A steady trickle of blood swept out, avoiding Miss Derevko, and landing neatly in the intestines accumulated on the floor. Lilia felt a slight rush of excitement…a thrill from the adrenalin at having defeated the enemy…and then remembering what he was about to do – tried to think of the worst punishment she could imagine.

With the knife, she reached out and grabbed the clean hand (the other was covered in entrails) and holding the little finger out, cut it clean off.

If you know what the Revenant did with the fingers, I'm sure you will guess what happens next. For those who aren't as intimately acquainted with her ways – it's probably better you _don't_ know.

Lilia giggled slightly; "I'm a soul-eater. Your soul is mine!"

Cleaning her knife, she slid it into her concealed pocket, and checking she had no blood on her…for she had been nimble enough to avoid it all, she picked up the fallen books, and carried walking home.

--

They found the body three days later. Although it was a quiet back street, many people must have walked there. Perhaps they didn't notice the gore…or the smell. Perhaps they thought it was a drunk. Or maybe they thought that it was none of their business, and as they walked on, ignored the death that surrounded them. I prefer the latter theory.

However, police couldn't find the killer, after a short search. They never dreamed a ten-year old girl was responsible. The cold war was drawing to a close. They had more important things on their mind.

It was finally marked unsolved, and filed away in the vast archive…never connected to the 'Revenant' case.

They say you never forget the first man you kill.

Hardly a man.

Scum.

**

* * *

Note:** Personally I was always rubbish at Biology…much better at Physics. I would have preferred Lilia to have been a Physicist, but I didn't think that was quite as strong a subject, if you're going to become a Forensic Detective! On that note, again hoped you enjoyed it, and please review (and please tell me your opinion on the intro, then into events…again, I'm trying different things! Also the gore. Do you want more? Less? Please let me know!) 

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	5. Beyond the Iron Curtain

"_Do you remember that day?"_

"You mean the day of the incident?"

"_Yes, that day."_

"The day the rain turned into snow?"

"_Yes, that day."_

"Well, no…I don't remember much…just that the rain turned into snow."

_**Shenmue.**_

**HER BURNING HEART**

**The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note:** This has been a while in the coming, as I have had writer's block of the most severe kind you can imagine! Anyway, I have been in contact with Penelope S. Cartwright, who gave me the idea to write it…and I have a new direction! So…this is the last chapter set in St. Petersburg, and Russia for that matter! Okay-dokey, here we go…

CHAPTER FIVE – Beyond the Iron Curtain

31st October 1986

St Petersburg

Lilia Derevko sighed gently, and focused her body into a single position. She raised her right leg out ninety degrees, and twisted gently into a graceful pirouette. She leaped into the centre of the room, and without stumbling kept moving back to the side of the room, on the opposite side. She ended up, crouching in a corner, each move, a work of beauty.

"What is the meaning of this?" snared Constantine Derevko, waving a sheet of paper under her nose, and pointing at Lilia's feet; "A double insult?"

"If you're referring too my dancing?"

"OF COURSE I'M REFERRING TO YOUR DANCING!" Constantine roared, "I'M HARDLY TALKING ABOUT YOUR SPARKLING PERSONALITY!"

Lilia rose slowly, eyes blazing;

"If you're referring to my not using your 'Blood Money', I haven't. I have never been to another dance lesson…this I do myself!"

"And this!" said Constantine, "This letter! It's mad! America?"

"America," snarled Lilia, "I will cross the crack of the world…and split the Iron Curtain. Mother's cousin, Winona, has found a place for me at an American school! You never believed in the Russian education, the Russian State! The Communist Bloc is falling! Russia is declining; the West is the new future! Mother can see that, I can see that!"

_Darling Anna,_

_I would be delighted to accept Lilia into my home in America. I feel that we here can help her realise her potential._

"And what choice is it of yours?" said Lilia, "Who put you in charge?"

_I know Constantine has taken little or no interest in Lilia's education…which is such a shame. I know that she has tremendous potential. She has been given a place at our local school._

"I am in charge of this house! And while you're in it, you will follow what I say!" roared Constantine, taking a small flask out of his pocket, drinking deeply from it.

_There is one last thing. How much English does Lilia know. The School doesn't mind, although it will come in useful._

Constantine raised his large hands and struck Lilia heavily on her forehead. Slightly stunned, she fell to the floor, and vainly raised her hands to try and protect herself from his furious, alcohol fuelled blows.

"You've spat in my face every day of your miserable existence!" roared Constantine, "You ungrateful, miserable, little bitch!"

Lilia was screaming now, blood pouring from her nose. She may have killed a man, once, in self-defence, and her father, murderer of an old man, in the name of the Mafia.

What you must understand is Constantine has murder in his eyes. Death was a constant companion, and in that terrible moment he resolved to kill his daughter.

In this world, it seems that cause and effect, have terrible consequence. For in that instant, in that moment, as Constantine resolved to kill his daughter; Anna resolved to kill her husband.

_I look forward to your reply, dear cousin, and I hope Constantine is well._

_Yours, as always,_

_**Winona.**_

The gun in her hands emitted a throaty roar, a small, silver (American) .38, as the bullet was expelled violently with a small lick of flame.

Constantine died instantly.

Some believed it was too good for him.

--

Baltimore State Forensic Hospital; early morning (in America)

"Dr Lecter? Your post. I apologise for it being late, the delivery was not on time." The man's voice was horse and high, an unusual combination.

"Thankyou Barney," said Dr Hannibal Lecter, "and you know I don't blame you. It always happens. It's inevitable."

"If you'll excuse me Dr Lecter."

"Of course."

The tall orderly started walking away, as Lecter turned to the first piece of mail; he stood up suddenly, and went swiftly to his cell's glass:

"BARNEY! BARNEY!"

The orderly hurried back; "Yes, Dr Lecter."

"This mail. It hasn't been opened. I do not wish to lose my privileges in some game of Chilton's."

"I know it's unopened," said Barney quietly, "and believe me…this is no game."

_Dear Doctor Hannibal Lecter,_

_You knew me, many years ago, from your practise, before you were arrested. I know you as a decent man. Apparently insane, but a decent man nevertheless. You helped me, when no one else would._

_You once asked me if there was any one you thought you might be in a position to help. In return for your help, I am delivering you her name, as I promised._

_I plead with you not to harm her. She is a sweet child, and, in the truest sense of the word, a genius._

_Her name is Lilia Derevko._

_She is Russian, and my cousin's daughter. I am bringing her over to learn in America._

_Thankyou, again,_

**_Winona Davis, nee Derevko_**

Hannibal Lecter brought the letter to his nose, and gently inhaled the contents. He remembered Winona very well, and her faint (un-manufactured) perfume.

"Lilia Derevko," said Dr Hannibal Lecter, softly, "I'll be watching out for you."

--

St. Petersburg; the morning after the shooting

As soon as she had fired the gun, a weeping Anna Derevko had called the Russian State Police. They had come almost immediately, and taken her statement.

Unusually for the Police, they were sympathetic to Anna's plight. Surely the fact that Constantine Derevko was a known (one-time) murderer, and thief for the Mafia – though the Police had no proof, and the KGB couldn't care less – had nothing to do with it.

Lilia was released from St Petersburg hospital less than two days later, to her Mother's welcoming arms.

It was generally agreed by the Police that Anna Derevko shot and killed her husband in defence of her husband. No charge was brought.

The Police Investigative Team that had been trying to arrest Constantine for years; attended his funeral. They were not sad he was dead.

It's funny if you think about it; all of the Derevko family have killed once. I wonder what Freud would have made of that.

--

St Petersburg Airport; a fortnight after Constantine Derevko's funeral

"Don't worry darling," said Anna Derevko quietly, "everything is going to be fine. You're going to go to _America._ You can become a Biologist, and realise your _dreams!_"

"I'll miss you," wept Lilia, tears streaming down her face, "I'll miss you so much!"

"Never forget," said Anna, kissing her daughter on the cheek, "that I'll always love you. No matter what. Now go! Go! Or you'll miss your flight!"

Lilia ran, never looking back. The attendants helped her to her seat, but Lilia never stopped crying.

Anna was also crying, her heart broken into a thousand pieces. But she knew that this was the right thing to do.

As Lilia left the Iron Curtain, Anna sunk down into a seat, and knew that this was it. This really was it.

Saying goodbye really is the hardest thing to do.

--

**Note:** Well, I really want to thank Penelope S Cartwright, because I really had no idea where to go, after America. So, the next chapter is going to be a recap of the next six years. Lilia will no longer be a child, and of course Hannibal Lecter will have escaped from his incarceration. Will they meet? What is Winona's endgame? When will Lilia kill again? Keep reading!

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	6. The New World and Harpy’s Soul

_"It's time to prove to your friends that you're worth a damn. Sometimes that means dying. Sometimes that means killing a whole lot of people."_

**_Sin City written by Frank Miller_**

**HER BURNING HEART**

**The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note:** Again, extra-special thanks to Penelope S Cartwright, for her detailed information about the American School system, which is _completely_ different to our system over here. The night here (in '92) is almost certainly inaccurate for the night before Graduation Day…so please accept as dramatic license! The chronology is a tad dodgy, as I'm slipping between the novels and film's chronology as well, so I hope you can forgive me! Apologies again to anyone who eats at K.F.C. I can't enter one of their restaurants without laughing now…as I've probably said in Lessons! Contains some scenes of a violent nature.

CHAPTER SIX – The New World and Harpy's Soul

23rd July 1992

Washington, D.C.

"Ya know Lilly, I hate to do this, on this night of all nights but well…" Tommy Bloom was a rich kid, totally spoiled, and totally an idiot. Lilia didn't know what she had ever seen in him, and she bitterly regretted ever going out with him. She knew what he wanted, and had refused to give it to him. At first he thought she was playing hard to get, but then Mr Bloom realised that Lilia Derevko was _impossible _to get. At least in the way, Tommy Bloom wanted her.

"What Thomas?" sighed Lilia, "and don't call me Lilly. You know how I hate this American corruption of my Russian name. And it's not the American part…it's the corruption. You know why I won't sleep with you."

"Yeah," said Tommy, "and I could have any girl in the school that I wanted…and yet I chose the stuck up Russian. I don't want to see you anymore _Lilly_, but…ya know, if you want to go at it right now! Well, I could be persuaded to reconsider!"

Lilia almost choked with indignation. He thought he was God's gift to women? What about if by a terrible accident…say, he was about to rape her…and perhaps she lashed out in self-defence…and accidentally-on-purpose castrated him?

Lilia smiled inwardly, her hand slowly slipping into her right pocket, fingering the harpy she had brought.

She wondered if Tommy would scream?

6th January 1986

"Good morning," said Winona Davis, coming into Lilia's bedroom, knocking softly.

It has been three months since Lilia had first arrived in America. She had arrived too late to start the new academic year, but her Aunt had arranged for her to begin the new term after Christmas. It wasn't a perfect situation, but Lilia had been sent the half-years work to familiarise herself with, and managed to complete easily in a fortnight.

Winona was unsurprisingly impressed.

The rest of the time Lilia had spent reading. Winona was worried her niece was becoming introverted, but Lilia was simply bored. Not because the work had been easy, it hadn't been, but because she had _found_ it easy. So she read, and Winona left her mostly alone.

Today was Lilia's first day at school, and as Winona sat on the edge of the bed, Lilia said irritated:

"I can get up myself, given a little privacy," she snapped.

"You couldn't sleep again?" Winona said softly.

"What do you think?" said Lilia, "The world is slipping into shades of grey, my eyes are so heavy, I can barely keep them open, and my mouth feels so dry, like my lips and eyeballs. I hate this! I just can't do this!"

"But?"

"School?" cried Lilia, "Of course I can do school! I'm talking about everything else! Everything is just so…boring. This is nigh on impossible."

"Maybe there's something we can do about it? I could speak to a doctor?"

"Anything," said Lilia, "I'm quite happy for anything, to try anything."

"I'll get on it today," said Winona, "and now, I'll leave you be. I'll start your breakfast."

"Thankyou."

--

Despite her exhaustion, Lilia's day passed quickly enough, and when leaving the Elementary School, she knew she would return easily enough. It wasn't much of a challenge, but it was something to do.

When Lilia was away, Winona wrote to an old friend.

_Dear Dr Lecter,_

_I apologise for the seeming triviality of this letter, but I am in need of your help. I know I told you about Lilia's Insomnia in my past letter, and I was wondering if you could tell me if there was something I could do to help her._

_She is exhausted, and I am terrified that she may break at any moment. I plead for your help._

_**Winona Davis.**_

1975

Office of Dr Hannibal Lecter; Baltimore 

Winona Derevko (she had yet to meet Mr Davis) had escaped the Iron Curtain, and suffering from depression, and anxiety had been referred to Dr Hannibal Lecter.

Now under normal circumstances, this would be extremely dangerous for Miss W. Derevko, but Dr Lecter took a sort of _shine_ to her. Admittedly, sometimes that could be equally dangerous depending what kind of 'shine' it was. Fortunately for Miss W. Derevko, it was not a spasm of violence, rather a curiosity.

"Let me be honest," said Dr Lecter, slowly, savouring the words like fine caviar, "I find garden-variety manic-depressives, and sufferers of anxiety boring. Luckily for you, Miss Derevko, I do not find you to be garden-variety. Now…don't get me wrong! I know manic-depressives and sufferers of anxiety to be among those who need help…but I find it tedious to treat. Perhaps a failure of mine. Perhaps it is not. But you I can help Miss Derevko, or at least I believe I can. You are an interesting person…and for you I am going to do my best."

6th January 1986 continued

Washington, D.C.

"How was it?" Winona asked as she walked home with Lilia, her arm intertwined with Lilia's, "How was your day?"

"Neither good nor bad," Lilia said, and her Aunt smiled realising how fluently she was speaking in English considering she had been in the country for only three months now. Lilia had read many novels and non-fiction in English in Russia, which she found not a good as her native language, but almost as good.

"I hoped you would enjoy it," Winona said, "for it's elementary my dear Lilia, that Elementary School might be good."

Lilia smiled: "You know Conan-Doyle never wrote that!"

"Oh, I know, my little Sherlock…and is there anything I can do?"

"I miss my mother," said Lilia sadly.

"I miss Anna too," said Winona, "but don't worry. You will hear from her soon."

28th March 1988

But Winona was wrong, and it was not for another two years until a letter arrived:

_My darling Lilia,_

_Please do not be hurt, or upset, but it is only now that I dare risk sending you a letter without it being intercepted by the State._

_I have received and kept all your letters. They have brought me hope and joy, when I thought all was lost. I am thrilled with how your education is coming along, and I know that Winona is taking good care of you._

_I will write again soon, I promise, and I would love to see you sometime._

_All my love._

_**Mum.**_

the remains of 1988

Apart from Anna's letter, very little happened in 1998, except for Winona finding an excellent cure for Insomnia, so in sense it was the calm before the storm. Lilia left Elementary and joined a small Private High School. It was only a few blocks away from Winona's house, and Lilia found herself quickly excelling.

Surprise, surprise.

12th February 1989

Biology.

A biology project to prove something.

Something?

Proving what exactly?

Lilia smiled. A pig was shockingly similar to the anatomy of a human. Similar organs, in similar respective places.

What if she were to kill that something, and write as a pig? From a passive voice. It wasn't as if she were to _kill_ anyone.

Or at least that's what the teacher would (obviously) think.

"Aunt Winona!" she called up the stairs of the townhouse, "I'm just going for a walk!"

"Okay!" Winona called back, "It's six now, so make sure to be back in an hour!"

In ten minutes, Lilia was far away from the house, her harpy concealed. It's wickedly sharp, curved; blade would have glistened in the moonlight, so at least it couldn't alarm anyone.

Her target was in front of her, a homeless man, lurking in the alley. He stank, and was obviously in need of a good meal. The man snarled at her slightly, which Lilia found bizarre. She slid beside him, out of sight from the street, and thrust the harpy into the man's side.

_Dear Miss Derevko,_

_I am writing to you, and enclosing a gift. I am an old friend of your Aunt's but doubtless you will have heard nothing of me. That is unsurprising, though I must ask you to keep this communiqué secret._

_You are special; Miss Derevko, and I know your gifts will be sought after. Therefore I enclose a blade called a 'harpy' with which to defend yourself with. Belief me, it may come in very useful._

_I fervently hope that we meet sometime in the not-too-distant future. I believe that we have much to discuss._

_Yours faithfully,_

_**Matthew Reeves.**_

She didn't dare linger long, only stopping to cut off the little finger. Her gloves prevented fingerprints on the body, and very little DNA found it's way onto the deceased. However, Lilia had an ace up her sleeve. The weather forecast had predicted an _extremely_ heavy rainfall.

As droplets of water and blood fell on her face, and then to the ground, she smiled to herself. This 'Matthew Reeves' had helped her significantly…but she knew that she could not kill again, not yet, never so soon. She must wait.

The finger was extremely delicious, though, and Lilia relished a new soul.

The first and only murder dubbed as 'K.F.C.' (because it's finger lickin' good!) by the D.C.P.D. was not solved until the infamous Revenant case, well over a decade later.

1990

Washington, D.C.

"Isn't it terrible Lilia," said Winona softly, "that Buffalo Bill has killed again. When are they going to catch that monster?"

"I don't know, Auntie," said Lilia, eyes glued to the newspaper. Lilia was almost obsessed with this case, her aunt deciding that this was probably due to her outrage at a murderer killing women in such a way. For once, Winona was completely wrong.

--

**SO WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH BUFFALO BILL?**

**J. Noir**

Special Correspondent

Is he a MURDERER? Of course.

Is he a FREAK? Of course.

Is he DISTURBED? Who wouldn't be?

Who is he, Ladies and Germs, he's BUFFALO BILL! Yes, you guessed right, old Willy has been at it again!

Of course, as the National Tattler has previously revealed, we know that this psycho is insane…but what are the F.B.I. actually doing to CATCH him?

Or…are they in CAHOOTS with the loony?

Read on!

--

Was it any surprise that Lilia didn't?

And Lilia was reading The Washington Post, with an excerpt from The National Tattler in it, trying to find something, anything.

What scared Lilia was that she didn't know herself.

--

Later that evening Lilia looked at her aunt with mournful eyes.

"Auntie Winona?"

"Yes?" said Winona,

"This is going to sound odd to say the least…but can we go? To Ohio? To get out of the city?"

"You really hate him don't you," said Winona, "this Buffalo Bill…well, if you want. What about this weekend? After school on Friday?"

"Thankyou," smiled Lilia.

Belvedere, Ohio

They had been in Ohio for a day, Winona taking it to heart, and allowing them to stay a few days. They had separated temporarily, because Winona realised that Lilia fitted the wrong profile for the killer. From the news, he knew that Bill preferred larger girls. For what, she didn't want to know.

Lilia was just wandering, soaking up the atmosphere, when she heard someone running up behind her.

"Excuse me? Excuse me, could you stop a moment," it was a feminine voice…that sounded very similar to a West Virginian accent, but just _wasn't _quite. She turned, and saw a very pretty young lady, with shoulder length brown hair, and captivating eyes.

"Hello," the lady said, fumbling into her pocket, "I'm Special Agent Clarice Starling. F.B.I. Can I have a moment of your time?"

"Of course," said Lilia, entranced, "how can I help?"

"You're European?" asked Clarice, to which Lilia nodded, "Do you live around these parts?"

"No…I just came here for the day,"

"Might I ask why?"

"I don't really know why…"

"Sure," Clarice smiled, "well, I'd better go. Thankyou anyway…oh! Could you just please tell me your name?"

"Of course," said Lilia "Christine,"

"Well, thankyou Christine. Goodbye."

Lilia bid Clarice farewell, as the trainee F.B.I. agent went dashing off. It put a lot of interesting ideas in Lilia's head. What if she were to help them? What if she were to join? The danger would be great…but so would the rewards.

And even in the present day, when Lilia and Clarice were working together in the Revenant taskforce, Clarice Starling never realised she had first met the serial-murderer Revenant (K.F.C.) on her hunt for Buffalo Bill.

23rd February 1991

"So…Lilia," his words were stammering, and hesitant. He was scared stiff by her, and this made Lilia smile. Someone was scared of her, and she hadn't even threatened him!

"Lilia…would you possible be interested…in perhaps going _out_ this weekend."

Lilia smiled slightly at Tommy Bloom, and thought, 'sure…why not?"

"Why not?" she said to Tommy, "I'd love to."

1992

"Perfect!" cried Winona, deliriously happy, and smiling all the more broadly to see Lilia smile.

The results came in this morning, for Lilia SATS test. A perfect mark of 1600. Any university would be jumping at the chance of Lilia going. Everything was going so _well._

--

That lunchtime in the city centre.

Lilia sat quietly, in the bustling street, reading when a man approached.

"May I sit with you?" a man asked. He had a soft, cultured voice, which was ever so slightly raspy, as if it had only been used regularly for the first time in years. Lilia looked up and gasped, her hand darting straight to the harpy in her pocket.

His face may have changed in the last two years, but Lilia could still recognise his soul.

Sitting next to her was Dr Hannibal Lecter.

"Good. You know who I am Ms Derevko. What you do not know it that you are clutching the harpy I gave you. You also know me as Matthew Reeves…and I must be brief. Congratulations on your SATS score, I am immensely proud of you. I have been watching your progress from afar, and when you begin at University…if that is what you want to do…ring me on this number," he handed her a plain black card with a single phone number pressed in black, "and we'll talk about your future. Don't be scared…you have a long and glorious one ahead. Now I _really _must be going."

It was another hour before Lilia dared move, and only then she remained in a public place. What was going on? Why had _Doctor Hannibal Lecter_ of all people approached her?

Some sponsor he would make.

She wondered what her Tommy was doing.

23rd July 1992 continued

But making him scream would not have the desired consequences. With no mercy shown, Lilia put the harpy back in her pocket. Tommy Bloom never realised how close he came to be being castrated…or worse.

"Drive me home, you egomaniac," snapped Lilia, "you owe me that!"

* * *

**Note:** I am painfully aware that we have never seen Mr Davies…and I wonder if there is a good reason for it. Does the Derevko curse of murder run to cousins as well? Hmm, I'm going to have to think about that! The next chapter will see Lilia in University, and preparing her work (three years in a 'professional' job), so that she can begin with the FBI. Why does she want to join the FBI? And what does Matthew / Dr Lecter want with Lilia? Please keep reading, and please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	7. Her Soul

"…_what her soul desired but her reason dreaded"_

_**Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy**_

**HER BURNING HEART**

**The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note:** I've written quite a lot in the past year and a half (thirty-three stories and poems I believe), and out of all of them, this is one of my very favourites. The odd thing is I have no idea why. I think it is mostly to do with Lilia herself, certainly my favourite (and might I say best?) character I have created. There is a lot of me in her…with the obvious exceptions that I am not female, Russian, or indeed a serial-killer! And for fans of Lilia, could I recommend you check out Penelope S Cartwright's exceptional 'The Lecter Variations', ironically enough the life-story of Dr Lecter(!), where Lilia makes a cameo in the final chapter. It really is brilliantly done! Right, after this chapter, there are going to be eight more chapters, so it looks as if I have my work cut out for me! This chapter is cutting forward a few years, to when Lilia is working for the FBI, and for the next chapter, I'll be going back to Lilia's Graduation. Apologies for the strange chronology…I just thought I'd try some different things!

CHAPTER SEVEN - Her Soul

**FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION**

The Following File is CLASSIFIED

Unauthorised Viewing of this Document Is Punishable by Federal Law

Case Officer: Clarice M. Starling

Manuscript: written by Dr Lilia Derevko (FBI Agent, and serial-murderer "K.F.C. / Revenant") before her death - discovered at her home (concealed behind a false wall) two months after her murder at the hands of Hannibal Lecter.

--

My favourite novel is Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, my favourite singer is Nina Simone, and my favourite colour is purple.

I do not know why it is so. I only know that it is, and I suppose that is a good enough reason for me.

It is the 25th December 1996. Christmas Day.

I have been working for the FBI for a month now - and have already killed a man. He was a petty man, addicted to vice; pleasures of the flesh, sullying his body with drugs.

I am by myself…tomorrow I will see my Aunt, but I wanted this day to myself. I find comfort in solitude. Again, I do not know why. Merely another aspect of my soul. I am lonely when I am in a crowd. Never by myself.

I have five presents in front of me. From my mum in Russia; my aunt Winona; Special Agent's Clarice Starling and Matt Ito, whom I have spent the last fortnight tracking that same drug-dealer. I am twenty years old, and an agent of the FBI. Strange…I skipped three years due to a lucky accident. My last present is from a girl called Katherine Anderson, although everyone called her Kitty. When I was at High School, she was the most popular girl in school…and she chose to be my friend.

I haven't heard from her in years…and I had no idea what happened to her. I was always the cold one in school. I fear I remain the same.

I open my mum's present first. It is a beautiful gold necklace, with a sparkling sapphire. I put it on immediately…and realise how much I miss her. We write, and speak over the phone, but I cannot afford the plane fare to travel to Russia…or I would be gone in a heartbeat.

Matt's present is a series of Russian Dolls. The one's where you open a doll to find another inside, and so on. A charming, if slightly clichéd gift. Though I certainly find it more charming.

Aunt Winona's present is a copy of Bleak House by Charles Dickens. A strangely double-meaning gift from her. I expressed a desire to read it…and she has always viewed my little house as quite bleak. I rather like it though…and the gift. I shall look forward to reading it.

I open Clarice's gift with reluctance. I didn't get her, or indeed Matt, a gift; indeed the thought had never even crossed my mind. I was exited at being with the FBI, drafted into a squad so early (but not unheard of), to stop this man of vice, myself for forensics and psychology, Matt for his electronically expertise, and Clarice again for psychology. There is a gulf between us, there _must_ be one. I cannot tell her the truth, about what I have done, that I met her in Ohio all these years ago, and meeting with the man called Reeves. One person she knows all to well.

It is a cassette. How did she know? Tchaikovsky's complete Nutcracker, one of my favourite pieces of music. I never told her! I could have sworn I didn't!

I turn to the last package. The one I have been dreading. Funny that a gift given freely should evoke such trepidation. I open the package in a flurry of tape and paper.

It is a book. A first edition of Anna Karenina. There is a separate note in the front (she knows I despise it when people write in books): **_To Lilia, my sincerest apologies and deepest love. I wish you happiness, and peace - something I know you found little of when we were at school. I hope you are well, and I send this book, from a real Kitty to a fictional one! K._**

There was no return address. She must not want me to contact her.

For the first time in my life, I feel utter despair. Why am I doing this to myself? Why do I believe I must suffer so? I move to the phone and arrange to visit my aunt, later this evening. Happier, I put the receiver down.

For now, I move to the window and its comfortable seat as snow falls freely from the heavens, and begin to read.

I do not know why I have written this. At least I have the comfort of knowing that I have.

--

Brief Analysis

Clarice M Starling

It is almost certain that Lilia wanted to write more, but felt unable to, for fear of discovery. Why did she work for the FBI, if she felt us enemies? Why did she feel she had to write this? I fear we have lost, by Lilia's own omissions, a valuable insight into her soul…

**Note:** I realise, now that I have written it what a strange chapter this is…but it is the half-way marker of the story, and for me shows Lilia to be such a lonely person, without actually realising it. Anna Karenina, by the way is one of my own favourite novels, and if you have a period of time free, I sincerely recommend it. I can never remember actually shouting at a book, the only time was when reading Kitty and Vronsky writing coded notes in chalk on a table. It's a really beautiful novel! Anyway, as I wrote before, next chapter will be going back to Graduation Day, and I think I might introduce Kitty for real! I hoped that you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, please review!

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	8. Graduation Day

"_I defy you stars!"_

_**Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **The time it's taken for me to get a computer with internet, I thought I'd better write another edition! We're going back to the day after Tommy unceremoniously insulted / broke up with Lilia…

CHAPTER EIGHT - Graduation Day

24th July 1992

Washington, D.C.

The day was beautiful, the sun beating down gently, and the blue sky perfectly clear. There was a whisper of excitement in the air…it was the last day of school, the last day forever. The students lives were going to begin anew, and they would now put the past forever behind them.

The stage had been set up on the school grounds, the seating for family set up in front. The same ritual performed each year, the ending of one life and the beginning of another.

Graduation Day.

Lilia had made her own way to school that morning, Aunt Winona had said that she had some urgent errands to run, and couldn't accompany her. She would _be _there, that Winona had promised. So in the glorious sunshine she had walked slowly, enjoying the feel of it on her face.

--

It is near the end of the ceremony.

All the students had come up on stage to receive their awards…all but one. Principle Bannerman stood up, and moved to the stand:

"And finally, as our school tradition requires, the student who graduated top of the class, in the class of ninety-two, Lilia Derevko, will now present her speech. Ladies, Gentlemen and Students…Miss Derevko."

Lilia took a deep breath, sighed heavily, and walked onto the stage, from her seat behind it (where all the students had been made to wait before receiving their awards).

Her eyes glanced over the front row, she saw Kitty give her a thumbs-up, and kept looking around the seats.

Then she stopped in her tracks. Now she knew what those errands were. Sitting next to her Aunt Winona was her Mother.

Lilia fought back tears, and continued on her way to the stand. Glancing at her notes, she began to speak:

"I am an alien. And before you start snickering, I am _not_ from another planet. I am from another country, indeed, the enemy of this country just a few years ago, in the cold war.

I wanted to say many things today. But you have known me long enough that I am a quiet person, not one given to long speeches.

I was reading Romeo and Juliet the other day…and I came across a line: "I defy you stars." The original context is one of tragedy, but if you twist them a little, they change into a meaning of hope.

The stars are meant to be the ultimate definition of humanity's achievement. For most of us, we are not meant to reach the stars above. But I think that stars are not necessarily the lights in the sky. It can be whatever our hearts desire.

So on this day, the twenty fourth of July, I challenge you to defy _your _stars. Reach higher than you mean to, seek out your dreams, and make them happen! You all have it in you, to live your lives to the fullest.

Just remember: it isn't important whether or not you have the highest-paying job, the flashest car, or whatever. The most important thing is that you are happy. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Defy."

Applause scattered loudly from the audience's hands, not generally directed at Lilia, but at each other, and themselves. Lilia didn't care however, as she leaped off the stairs, dodged through the standing people, and into the waiting arms of her mum.

No words were spoken. None were needed. Mother and Daughter wept, for all the years apart they had lost.

And out at the back of the school, unseen underneath a large oak tree, Dr Hannibal Lecter applauded, placed his fedora back on his head, and walked swiftly away.

--

Tommy Bloom gazed helplessly at Lilia, in the arms of her mother, and bitterly cursed his libido. What had he been thinking last night? It was a bluff! He had only meant it as a bluff…to try to force her _hand_.

Lilia turned, and caught him looking at her. Tommy jumped at her burning eyes, and he knew what a fool he had been.

Lilia turned back to her family, ignoring him, as Tommy turned back to his. He knew today he was the loser, and his Graduation was soured.

He had lost…and chose not to defy his own star. That chapter was finished.

He knew that Lilia's star would shine all the more brightly because of it.

--

"So that's your mum, then," smiled Kitty, "she's really nice, Lilia. I'm glad you got to see her today!"

"You knew?" whispered Lilia, looking over at her mum, who was talking to Winona.

"Course!" said Kitty, "Who do you think helped your aunt come up with it? I knew how much you wanted to see your mum after all."

Lilia reached out and hugged Kitty fiercely: "Thankyou my friend. Thankyou."

"Hey, you still on for next week?"

"Sure," said Lilia, "can't wait!"

"Go on, go see her! Just enjoy yourself, Star!"

--

Lilia spent the next week with her mother, before Anna Derevko's visa expired. It was, quite simply, a perfect week.

That summer, Lilia went on a road trip with Kitty, the last summer they spent together. Afterwards, Lilia didn't hear from Kitty, until the winter of 1995. She disappeared from the face of the earth.

Lilia continued to defy her stars, gaining a place at the D.C. University Hospital, and it is there where Lilia's story continues…

**Note:** Now I realise that it has been two months since I last wrote for HBH, and I'm conscious that it might not be quite the same. If that's the case, please tell me, so if needs must I can re-write it. There are seven more chapters, so as I said previously, I've got my work cut out for me! Anyway, I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	9. Lock and Key Part One

"_What's wrong sir?"_

"_Tired."_

"_Why's that?"_

"_Lack of sleep."_

_**Inspector Morse: Who Killed Harry Field? screenplay by Geoffrey Case**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **This is going to be an extremely episodic chapter, as I can hardly put an entire medical course into a chapter! However, I am indebted to the memoirs of FBI Special Agent Candice DeLong, who worked as a nurse, at a maximum-security psychiatric unit at a Hospital in Chicago, before joining the FBI. I haven't read it fully for quite a while, so a re-read is in order methinks! I recommend it however, and it's called 'Special Agent'. I'm also again extremely grateful for information provided by Penelope S Cartwright, who has been truly brilliant throughout. Thankyou! Now, the three years described in the chapter, can technically happen, as the FBI would accept someone who has trained _and _worked for the 'three professional years'. My chronology is on a very tight line, which I am coming close to breaking, so I get a very much-needed respite. Anyway, enough of my ramblings, thank you again to the above-mentioned people, and I hope you enjoy…

**Additional Note:** Having just finished this 'chapter', I have found to my frustration that is only a third of what should have been - but it ended up getting so long! Therefore, I am forced to split Chapter Nine into more than one part, so the next part(s) will be published under the same title, in the following chapters. It's not an ideal situation, but it should work.

CHAPTER NINE - Lock and Key (Part One)

Early August: 1992

Washington, D.C.

Lilia Derevko sat cross-legged on her bed, alone in the house, the sunlight fighting to get through the drawn curtains. She was staring at the telephone, a small black card clenched in her hand.

She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply, dredging memories up from the last few months.

"_When you begin at University…if that is what you want to do…ring me on this number," he handed her a plain black card with a single phone number pressed in black, "and we'll talk about your future. Don't be scared…you have a long and glorious one ahead."_

Her encounter with the infamous Dr Lecter. But why would he be interested in her? Why would she interest him? Then it hit her. So stupidly obvious. She was a killer. But how did _he_ know that.

'_Curiosity killed the cat'_

She knew she had to ring him. She couldn't afford not to. He could destroy her. And Lilia knew that Dr Lecter loved destruction.

'_But satisfaction brought it back'_

So be it.

She picked up the receiver, and looking at the black card, swiftly dialled the number.

She waited as the beeps sounded, and it was a long time before the call was placed. Long-distance. Very long-distance.

"_Pronto." _The voice was soft and cultured. Lilia recognised it instantly, not that she needed to.

"Doctor Lecter?"

"_Who is calling please?"_

"Erm, its Miss Derevko, Doctor."

"_Of course, my apologies. I don't know many people with Russian Accents. And school is finished. I heard your speech. Most impressive, and an interesting twist on Shakespeare. Congratulations, by the way, on graduating top of your class."_

"Thankyou."

"_Now…I believe that I requested you ring. I'm sure you're curious as to why I requested that…In short, you interest me, Miss Derevko. You are an alien, at first lingual, and then because you were born in another country. When you arrived, you were from an enemy country, and we both know how many Americans, as with other countries, can react to people who they deem 'hostile'. Tell me, Lilia, did they first oppress you? Hate you?"_

"No, Doctor."

"_Interesting. Well, that is certainly a good thing. Now…have you decided what you are going to do? The deadline is in a week I believe."_

"I'm not sure yet…I was thinking about becoming a Doctor myself. I'm fascinated…perhaps obsessed with Biology. Also with psychology. And forensics."

"_Interesting, interesting, interesting. Lilia…have you ever considered the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The three things you mentioned. I think it might suit you well."_

"But I'm a killer! Why should I work for those who could capture me?"

"_You would have to be careful. It would be dangerous. But you would have an advantage. There are two kinds of killer, Lilia, ones who kill for pleasure or profit, those who a crude and vile. Then there are those who kill when it is necessary for their own survival. For their sanity. You are not evil Lilia. You are not a monster. Have you ever killed an innocent person? Mason Verger…who you may know survived…was a paedophile. HE is evil. Killing is not always evil. Not always. Your advantage would be information. You would know things that others do not. Knowledge is the greatest power."_

"Would you want me to help you?"

"_No. I wouldn't want to take advantage of you. I fear that too many people have tried to take advantage of you. Your father amongst them. I want to set you free."_

"You knew someone in the FBI, didn't you."

"_Yes, her name is Clarice Starling. Someone else who should be set free. You have potential Lilia, but you are a conflicted soul. You must be wary. If you were to join the FBI, you would have to be wary. There is a saying: You fall in love with the FBI, but the FBI does not love you back. You would have to be detached. Do not get sucked in. Use them, as they use you. But that is not what you must do. Have you given thought to being a Practitioner? Or a Psychologist? You could help many people, or do many things."_

"I like the idea of being with the FBI, but I had always considered myself as a Biologist."

"_Well, you do realise that to join the FBI, you must do what they call, in inverted commas, 'a professional job', hmmm? You would have to train, and then do a job. So it's something to think about. Now; what about University. Are you thinking about The Ivy League?"_

"Erm…I sort of decided against The Ivy League. I got so many scouts hassling me…well I didn't want to bother with them."

"_Oh?"_

"Yeah, well I went to Washington University Hospital, and they were really nice. With the practical elements. I think that I could do some good."

"_Why haven't you applied yet?"_

"But what if I'm wrong? I could be wasting my time."

"_Education, Lilia, is never a waste. Even if you hate it, and drop out, you will still have learnt. You could start again, and find something better. Trust in yourself, and in your decision."_

"Thankyou Doctor."

"_My pleasure, Lilia. I'll keep watching over you. Know that everything will turn out all right. Now, I had best say Adieu."_

The phone clicked as Lilia put down the receiver. She lay back on the bed, and smiled.

Some time later, Winona came home, bags of shopping under her arm. Lilia leapt downstairs.

"Well," said Winona, "you certainly look happier."

"I made a decision," said Lilia, "let me help you with the shopping, and I'll tell you all about it!"

--

The Remains of the Summer: 1992

Lilia and Kitty left the next day, with Lilia's application winging its way toward the University Hospital. It was a restful summer, as Lilia and Kitty went on their road trip, swept up in their own youth and happiness. While on the road, Winona managed to get through to Lilia, telling her that her application had been accepted.

When they returned, they spent the last week in each other's company, before something strange happened. Kitty disappeared.

Now, a cynic, who knows the whole truth, might immediately begin to suspect Lilia herself. But why should she kill her friend.

On the 9th of September, Lilia received the following letter:

_My dearest L,_

_I can only apologise from the depths of my heart. I am forbidden to write more, except that my family is in trouble, legal trouble. We've been moved to Witness Protection - obviously I can't tell you why._

_You're safe, as long as I stay away. You in turn can't come looking for me…I know you to well._

_You will probably never hear from me again. Unless, when it's safe…I will come looking for you._

_I love you, my friend. You were my sister. I know that you hate clichés, but it is true._

_Be good to yourself, and live your life to the full!_

_My star,_

_**K**_

"I love you too, my friend," Lilia whispered, heart aching, tears streaming down her face.

She decided to follow Kitty's advice.

--

12th September 1992

University Hospital, Washington, D.C.

Lilia sat nervously, her clothes smart, but not expensive, her usual ponytail tied up. She was sitting in one of the teaching rooms, in the front row, in front of the blackboard. Her books were at her feet, and she was noticeably alone in the crowds of chattering students.

She turned as someone walked into the classroom, a boy. Seeing the only seat was next to a pretty girl with brown hair, he smiled nervously, and sat next to her.

"Hi," he whispered, "I'm not late am I?" Lilia turned and shook her head:

"No," she whispered back, "the teacher's not here yet."

"What's your name? I'm James. James Wilkins."

"Lilia. Lilia Derevko. Though why we're introducing ourselves in mock-James Bond fashion I have no idea."

"Are you Russian?" asked James.

"Yeah,"

"Well, maybe that's a clue. You like films?" Internally Lilia sighed; she didn't want him to hit on her, certainly not this early:

"Yeah, sometimes."

"Well it's nice that I have something in common with somebody. I probably shouldn't admit this, but I'm really nervous."

"Same here," said Lilia, "I don't know what to expect."

Suddenly the room hushed, as a stressed looking man burst through the door, papers flying everywhere, his white coat streaming like a cloak:

"Hello," he said, in a hoarse, tense voice, dumping his papers on his desk, "I'm Doctor Willis. Pleasure to meet you all, and I apologise for my lateness. Emergency in ER. Which is why I suppose it's named so. Now…I am here to introduce you to our course. This is a blend of course, and as such, you will be expected to learn triple amount in three years. So we have a lot ahead of us. We will focus on becoming a physician, some forensics, and Biology. And this will be hard. Very hard. But if you succeed, you will have a far greater choice in life. So, may I wish you the best of luck, get out your notebooks, and let's begin."

--

13th September 1992

The lecture had just ended, and Lilia sat up, primping her hair slightly. She looked across the room, and caught James smiling at her. She smiled back, and he wound his way through the crowded room.

"Thanks, Lilia, I owe you one," he said, handing back the pencil he had borrowed - having forgot to bring one of his own.

"That's three times you owe me!" Lilia smiled.

"I stand humbly corrected," James said, "but thanks for saving me all this time. You can't draw with a pen."

"Well, you can," said Lilia, "just not very well. So I suppose it's a good thing _one_ of us has a decent memory."

"Miss Derevko?" Lilia turned to see Dr Willis behind her.

"What can I do for you Doctor?" she asked. Willis smiled nervously.

"Could you come with me for a tick? Doctor Vallon wants to see you." Lilia made a mock-startled face:

"Am I in trouble?" she asked, knowing fine well she wasn't.

"No…no," said Willis, "it's…well it's a long story. You won't be kept long."

"Okey-dokey," said Lilia, gathering her belongings, "let's go." She turned, winked at James and said: "See you tomorrow. Bring a pencil!" James grinned and waved.

In the corridor, Lilia turned to Dr Willis: "So what is this about?"

"Really, it'll be better if you waited for Vallon. He'll explain it better."

"Yet mysterious," said Lilia.

"Doesn't matter," said Willis, "we're here now." He knocked on the door, and was told to enter.

"Ah, Miss Derevko," said Dr Vallon, director of the University and Hospital, "please, take a seat."

"Could I ask why it is I'm here?" said Lilia.

"No, you may not," said Vallon, and seeing Lilia's shocked face, smiled, "sorry, sorry. Bad joke. What I'm about to ask you is going to seem very strange. I read your psyche profile, and your application form. You said you were thinking of working towards the FBI. You realise that you'll need an addition three years in a professional job."

"Yes," said Lilia.

"Well, if you were to work _while_ training, then it would still count as the three years. You are going to be here for three years." He steepled his fingers and leant forward, "We have a slight problem here, Miss Derevko. We are grossly under-staffed. I need additional support. I have been told that you are one of the quickest studies - you have a photographic memory. We need an acting nurse. You are the closest we have to someone qualified. Now, you will need a Doctor with you at all times, but we need help in ER, and our Maximum-Security Psychiatric Ward. It's a good salary, we'll give you all the help you need while studying, though you will need to take some tests to qualify. Like I said, you'll get all the help you'll need."

"Why me?" asked Lilia, "This is rather irregular. I've only been here a month…surely there are people searching for a job like this."

"No-one. We're out of options."

"Can I have some time to think about it? It's a pretty big decision."

"Sure, but not too long. Thankyou Miss Derevko."

"Thankyou Doctor."

--

When Lilia got home that night, she and Winona talked the offer over, for many hours. Eventually Lilia made the decision to take the job. She knew that it would be hard - but she didn't appreciate how hard it would be.

--

1st October 1992

Buenos Aires

Doctor Hannibal Lecter, stood gazing at the night sky from the balcony of his Apartment. It was beautiful here, but even the nights were hot.

He looked down on the city, at the festival of light. Torches blazed, and music filled the air, along with shouts and screams and laughs. It was beautiful, and Lecter smiled.

But he had been here a long time, perhaps too long. He wasn't sure that at the moment, he wanted Buenos Aires to be his permanent home, not now. He would head to the festival, and soon, but now, deep within the recesses of his Memory Palace, he drew his plans for a visit to Florence.

--

9th October 1992

Home of Winona Davies and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

Lilia breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of garlic and tomatoes. She plunged her fork into her Tagliatelle Bolognese, and took a big mouthful.

"It always was your favourite," smiled Winona, sitting at the opposite end of the table, and Lilia nodded, slurping up pasta, "and you still can't eat it in a-"

"Ladylike and refined manner," smiled Lilia, speaking in a mock-posh English accent, "so I eat like an oink-oink pig; like a dashed commoner, oh top hole, jolly hockey sticks!"

Winona looked at her niece for a second, and then exploded in a flood of laughter, which Lilia soon joined in.

After some minutes, Winona looked up, still grinning: "You know, I knew a very nice Brit, a long time ago. He was so charming and elegant."

"He was tall, dark and handsome, good in bed, funny," said Lilia, "yes, I know. Actually I'm sure he changes a little with each telling. Are you sure he wasn't a short, fat Lino Salesman from Manchester? Not that I have anything against Manchurians. Perhaps from Birmingham? Kent? London?"

"I give up," smiled Winona, "though I assure you, that nothing is false! Anyway, what about you? How are things?"

"Okay."

"Okay? Anything else?"

"Just okay."

"And what about Master James? Asked you out yet?"

"Auntie! James is a friend."

"So that's what they're calling it these days! What if he were to ask you out?"

"Well, put it this way, if he did…I wouldn't say no."

Winona smiled, "I'll have to remember that!"

--

31st October 1992

University Hospital; afternoon

"Lilia, hi!"

"James! How are things?"

"Stressful. How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Keep looking so calm. A serene wind in this tempestuous maelstrom."

"Been reading poetry again?" Lilia's voice was both pleased and gently teasing.

"Don't mock!"

"I'm not. I'm just pleased."

"Well don't get me started on William Wordsworth's 'I wandered lonely as a cloud'. How can you like it?"

Lilia grinned: "Actually I don't. I wanted to see what you're reaction would be. There are people who love it. I don't."

"Anyway," sighed James, "enough poetry. I, well, I was just wondering. The party tonight."

"The University Annual Hallowe'en Bash?"

"Yeah. Apart from the crummy name…er, are you going?"

"Yes. Why?"

"With somebody?"

"No…again, why?"

"Well, would you like to, er, go with me?"

"With you?"

"With me?" whispered James.

"Yes. Yes, I'd love to."

--

Later that night.

A cold wind swept around Lilia, rustling her long skirts, and petticoats.

"How did anyone breath in these damn things," she muttered, fingering her dress. It was an Elizabethan style, with corset, the works. And Lilia, although thoroughly enjoying the period trappings, was feeling the limitations.

"I believe that's where the fans used to come in," said James, who had crept up behind her, "you know: those of a wafty nature?"

"Wafty?" smiled Lilia.

"Well…alright I made it up. Can you describe it better?"

"Possibly. You look nice." James smiled:

"As you look beautiful. It's nice that we match." Lilia smiled, and blushed a little.

James costume matched Lilia's perfectly, ruffs, lace, the works. They had chosen to match; for both were aware of how Hospital Hallowe'en parties could be notorious. So they had chosen to protect each other.

"Shall we go in?" asked James.

"Certainly," smiled Lilia.

--

Some hours later.

The party had thinned a little, but Lilia and James remained close, gently chatting, and occasionally dancing. Every now and then, they indulged with a glass of champagne. Basically having a good time.

"What is it with horror?" asked James, "We are dressed as Elizabethan Vamphyric Ghosts, there are Frankenstein's Monster's, Zombies, you name it."

"It is because we like being scared?" Lilia said, "In Russia, they have never made any horror movie, and I wonder if they ever will. We had enough horror with our previous quote 'rulers' end-quote. People seem to like being scared. Maybe for the adrenaline?"

"Maybe. Hey, would you like to dance?"

Lilia smiled and agreed.

--

November - December 1992

Coming up to the first half-year marker, Lilia's studies were going well. She was happy, happy to spend time with James, happy with her course. The only mar, was her worry about Kitty. She decided to heed her friend's advice, and not search. She would have travelled the world over to find her…but it would be hard.

--

25th December 1992

Home of Winona Davies and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

"We wish you a merry Christmas," sang Winona,

"And a happy new year!" finished Lilia, smiling, " Now Aunt…are you sure you don't mind?"

"What? Your going to James' this afternoon. Course not! I'm glad you're seeing someone."

"It's not so much seeing someone…"

"So you're taking it slow. Doesn't matter," said Winona.

"Slow. Rather slow than fast."

--

31st December 1992

University Hospital; Washington, D.C.

One midnight to midnight.

"Yet another party!" smiled Lilia, "Oh our social life is so full these days!"

"No need to be sarky," James laughed, "I am rather enjoying these soirees we attend."

"Mmm, as do I."

"Behave!"

"What are you talking about? I am behaving!"

"_10"_

"_9"_

"_8"_

"_7"_

"_6"_

"_5"_

"Are we going to count down?" asked James.

"_4"_

"_3"_

"Not exactly," Lilia said, leaning in, and kissing him gently.

"_2"_

"_1"_

"_HAPPY NEW YEAR!"_

They broke off, and embraced.

"Happy New Year, indeed!" said James.

--

30th March 1993

The lesson of the day was dissection, part of the Pathology and Forensics half-year. It was something that Lilia found fascinating - especially considering her experience. But there was a problem; and it wasn't to do with the lessons.

The monster called Insomnia had raised it's ugly head again. For the first time in years, Lilia just couldn't sleep. And it wasn't as if she were sleepy, or falling asleep. James kept glancing at her from across the room - he had more or less guessed - and Lilia was grateful for his moral support.

Everything was in shades of grey, nothing seemed real, that aching feeling behind her eyes, and the awful dryness of her tongue.

She couldn't cope with it much longer. She was going to have to find a way to sleep…and soon.

This what hell was…and she couldn't lock it up into a little box, and throw it into the river.

--

2nd May 2003

The Nightingale Moon Restaurant; Washington, D.C.

The dinner was delicious, and Lilia was enjoying herself thoroughly. She was just about coping with the work, and her job; though if it got much harder in her present state, she wouldn't be able to manage much longer.

Despite her exhaustion, Lilia was in a playful mood. She looked up at James and smiled slyly.

"Jamie?" That got James' attention: "What is it about men and sex?"

"What?" said James, "I'm confused."

"Glad to hear it. Maybe it's just me…but I've only had one boyfriend before you, and he turned out to be a real creep. I just wanted to know why men are so obsessed with sex."

"Well, it's not as if I am obsessed. You're sort of lumping me in with the rest of my gender."

"Okay…well, maybe I am."

"Please tell me you're not going to go down the 'all men are beasts' route. I haven't done anything to offend you have I?"

"Oh, no! I'm just in one of my funny moods."

"Never would have guessed. In response to your question: is it due to the Neanderthal mating instinct. You know, breed of die, or something like that. Genetic leftover."

"You know…that makes sense. You see James, my last boyfriend, waayy back in the day. He was obsessed with it. He ended up dumping me, because I wouldn't sleep with him. You know, I could have ripped his testicles off. I really could have."

"Well it sounds like he deserved it," said James, "and Lilia. I'm in no rush. I'm more than happy to take it slow."

"Nice and slow," said Lilia, "I like the sound of that."

--

What We Did On Our Summer Vacation - Prelude (Last Day of Term)

"Would you like to go on holiday, Lil?" asked James, "Maybe for a weekend?"

Lilia looked up, mock-irritated: "Where Jam? Anyplace in mind?"

"Well," said James, "I've always wanted to go to Florence."

Lilia looked up, eyebrow raised.

"Well, that certainly sounds interesting…"

**To Be Continued**

**in**

**LOCK AND KEY - Part Two**

**Note:** Firstly, apologies for using The Nightingale Moon (the restaurant in Tourniquet). Perhaps you could consider it an anachronistic Washington outlet? Nope, thought not. Special thanks must go to BeatricePortinari for inspiration regarding Lilia's and James' Elizabethan-style vampire costumes. What Lilia said about there never being a Russian horror film is right, until the recent film Night Watch. The next part of Lock and Key will be coming soon, and hopefully it won't be as long as this sixteen page chapter! (I think it's my longest so far). I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	10. Lock and Key Part Two

"_This landing is going to get pretty interesting."_

"_Define 'interesting'."_

"_Oh god, oh god, we're all going to die?"_

_**Serenity written by Joss Whedon**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **After the last, very-long, chapter; this is going to be much shorter. Again, there isn't going to be so much about the medical course in itself, but about Lilia. Now, in Lessons (my previous story), there were two characters from something called 'The Organisation', who chased after the serial-murderer Revenant, (who of course is Lilia), because she apparently used to work for them, under the name 'The Lost'. So this chapter, will set the seeds for that segment. Finally, something Dr Lecter said to an adversary in Florence (in Hannibal), has given me a rather strange idea…hope nobody minds.

**Music: **I've never done this before, and will probably never do this again, but I heard a beautiful piece of music, and for some reason, it's stuck in my mind. The lyrics fit perfectly with this story; and I've sort of dubbed it as Lilia's Theme. It's called Alibi, by David Gray - so if you get a chance to listen to it, I recommend it.

CHAPTER TEN - Lock and Key (Part Two)

1993: What We Did On Our Summer Vacation - Continuation

Dr Hannibal Lecter's favourite place in the world is the city of Firenze.

With the dawn of the new Millennium, he chose to pursue curator-ship of the esteemed Capponi Library, part of The Studiolo. In 1993, he moved to Florence, and a few years later, moved away. He returned to Florence, after learning he missed it's ancient stones terribly.

What is about to occur, takes place during Lecter's first stay in Florence.

However, Lilia Derevko, did not know that her 'mentor' was there, as she approached, very quickly, thousands of meters in the air.

--

Plane, approaching Florence

"Don't tell me you're afraid of flying,"

Lilia Derevko turned, and glared viciously at James Wilkins, who was sitting next to her, in the aisle seat. Lilia, sighed and looked out the window.

"I've never liked flying," she replied, "you just can't see what's holding you up. My ears are so tight it feels they are about to burst, and there's this stabbing pain."

"It's the pressure, try swallowing."

"Have you been watching my throat?"

"No, should I have been? It _is_ a lovely neck."

"Less of the smart comments please."

"Alright, fine. Just trying to help."

"Well, I'll just be glad when we land," said Lilia.

--

Florence

Despite Lilia's misgivings, they landed safely enough, and apart from some jet-lag, both travellers were fine.

But for Lilia, the trip was making her feel terrible guilty. She hadn't seen her mother for a year now, and she was the closest to St Petersburg, than she had ever been since she had left.

James and Lilia's meagre budget couldn't stretch too much, so travelling any further was out of the question.

Yet that was of no comfort to her.

--

The coffee was hot, and especially delicious, despite the temperate weather.

"It's been really lovely," said Lilia, "hasn't it. Restful."

"And just think," replied James, "you get to fly again James."

"You know what James. I'm just going to ignore you for a little while."

"Charming! And when can I expect you to return to the land of the living?"

"About now?" Lilia smiled, as James planted a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Tell you what though," continued Lilia, "holidays are lovely…"

"…but it's lovely to get home again," finished James.

--

Walking down the main street, James and Lilia took every opportunity to take photos, and admire every building. You know, touristy things.

They didn't notice a pickpocket sneaking up behind them, until a tall gentleman, dressed in a scruffy trench coat, grabbed the thief's hand:

"Now Roberto!" he growled, in a deep Italian accent, "What have I told you about stealing from tourists? Not good for tourism. Now, be off with you!" The man called Roberto pulled his hand away, and scampered off.

"My sincerest apologies," the other man said, "my name is Rinaldo Pazzi, Chief Inspector. Roberto is a little troublesome."

"But you just let him go," said James.

"Because no crime was committed," Pazzi said, "but I'll have one of the officers pick him up later. He'll be taught a lesson. Sadly, pickpockets are a part of every city."

"Excuse me," said Lilia, "but did you say your name was Pazzi?" The Inspector nodded, and Lilia continued: "Of the historical Pazzi's? The name is synonymous with Florentine History." Pazzi grimly smiled and nodded:

"Yes," he said, "now. Would you want to press charges?"

James looked at Lilia: "Well, nothing was taken. So I suppose not. We'll leave it in your capable hands."

"_Grazie,_" said Pazzi, who turned on his heel and left.

"We'd better keep an eye on our belongings," said Lilia, to which James nodded.

--

The last day.

Again, the main street, taken over by the weekly market and the hustle-bustle of everyday life swept them along, like a river.

Lilia and James were about to go for lunch, when Lilia swerved. Something just didn't feel right.

"You okay?" asked James. Lilia nodded, feeling queasy. The lurching in her stomach was intense, but she hadn't eaten any food that might have been a problem.

So if it wasn't the food…then.

Lilia looked up. Over at the corner, a few streets away, her eyes caught a familiar figure. A small, sleek figure, wearing a white suit and fedora. Seeing he had been spotted, he smiled slightly, bowed, and took of his hat.

"What is it?" said James, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You could say that," said Lilia.

--

James and Lilia returned, refreshed from their holiday, and ready to start the new semester.

It would be a mostly uneventful year for Lilia. However, _mostly_ is not quite the same as not at all…

14th September 1993

University Hospital; Washington D.C.

Lilia flicked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and coolly sipped from a bottle of water. It was pretty much the only rule she ever broke, but she was thirsty.

James hadn't arrived yet, but Lilia had made sure she had placed a pencil on his desk. She was sure he had forgotten again.

In her mind, she travelled back in time. She hadn't killed for over a year now, the three 'Revenant' victims so far. The homeless man in 1989; the irritating foreign exchange student in '91 - and they had first blamed that one on rats. How strange people could be. Eventually attributed to her avatar…but not to her; and the city banker in '92. Lilia had felt a particular revulsion for the last one. He had been an evil man. Perhaps not enough to warrant death, but still.

So she was learning how to study, and perhaps how to heal; for she knew how to kill. She hated that part of herself, yet realised that is was an integral part of her soul.

Lilia Derevko was becoming a mass of contradictions. She was increasingly unsure of herself, yet never shared with anybody, not even with James. She kept a strong front up, but it was just a façade. Not real. It was almost as if she weren't real anymore.

James walked into the class, a little late, and flashed Lilia a brilliant smile.

"He's forgotten his wretched pencil again," murmured Lilia; not angrily, but indifferent.

31st October 1993

"Our first anniversary," said James, "Lilia. It's been a lovely year."

"Yes," smiled Lilia sadly, and catching James' concerned look, said; "Today's not my only anniversary. Seven years ago today, my father died." James' eyes widened.

"Oh, hell Lilia. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," said Lilia, "he was a horrible man. It's just so strange that something so horrible, and so lovely occurred on the same day."

"Well, we're are at the Hallowe'en bash. Would a dance take your mind off things?"

"Yes," said Lilia, "yes I believe it would.

The Holiday Period

Lilia spent the holiday period between worlds. Time was spent both with her Aunt, and with James. She kept reading voraciously, and began to form strange theories which she kept to herself. On Christmas Day, she received a card from Matthew Reeves, who told her that it was lovely seeing her in Florence, but that he would be moving shortly. However, the number on the card would still remain valid. He wished her the very best of luck with her studies.

When the new year arrived, Lilia made a secret New Year's Resolution - not to kill anymore. She would keep it for six months; and only then, she didn't break it by choice.

Her job as Acting Nurse was going well, though she found it extremely challenging. By the time of the new year, she was halfway toward her goal. One and a half years had gone by. Surely nothing could go wrong.

Except wrong it went. The descent was swift, but it's effects would be long-lasting.

2nd February 1994

University Hospital; Washington, D.C.

Lilia was cold. Goosebumps were raised on the back of her neck, pain shooting through her bones.

The world was spinning; yet was utterly still. Her mouth was as dry as a desert, and her eyes were so heavy.

"Miss Derevko?"

Her head snapped around to see Dr Willis standing behind her.

"Miss Derevko, are you alright? Your head was drooping."

"No," said Lilia, her Russian accent thicker than usual, "no, I'm fine. Thanks anyway."

Willis frowned: "Alright."

--

Dr Willis' voice kept droning on, and the usually interesting lectures - even ones where she was standing up - were unbearable. It had been so long since she last slept.

Spinning, she checked the chart on the wall behind her, but the room wouldn't stop spinning, and it was just too much, an overload, and she was shutting down, black all around her, and she was falling, falling, falling…

3rd February 1994

Lilia awoke to sterile white, and the smell of antiseptic. She was still in the hospital, in an uncomfy bed with an IV trailing into her arm like intestines. She didn't know why she thought of it like that.

She looked to the side, to find Winona's face, haggard and drawn.

"You've come back to us," Winona said, relief flooding through every pore, "oh, Lilia. Why didn't you tell me you were ill?"

"I wasn't" croaked Lilia, "just tired."

"Exhaustion," said Winona, "you collapsed from exhaustion. You've been ordered a week's bed rest."

"But I can't" said Lilia, her voice still sore, "my studies, my job." She stopped when Winona raised a hand:

"Don't worry about any of that. You're on paid sick leave, and as long as you don't do much, you can read in bed."

Lilia laid back, and breathed deeply. She had unknowingly abused her body, and it had paid her back in spades. She had to take better care of herself. She _would_ take better care of herself.

--

Winona had told Lilia that James hadn't left her side since she had collapsed, but had went to get food for both Winona and himself. When he returned, Lilia was thrilled to see him.

She wondered if she was falling in love…

17th April 1994

'The Organisation', Northern Hemisphere Headquarters; London

Voices in a room.

"We need a new subject. Our previous operatives are failing more and more."

"There's a killer in America. Police are baffled. If we can get to him in time, then perhaps we could begin recruitment."

"How do we proceed?"

"We can't know the identity of the killer. There has to be deniability…due to his other activities."

"What are they calling the killer?"

"Revenant."

"Really? Well, we'll just have to catch him in the act. But be careful. We need protection."

"Of course we do. We're not fools."

4th June 1994

Home of Winona Davies and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

"Lilia. I just don't understand. Why do you want to do this?"

"I need to clear my head. Get rid of the cobwebs. I want to see my Mum. I have enough saved up. It's been years Aunt Winona. I need some time, now the cold war is over."

Lilia took a deep breath, and continued:

"I have to go home…"

**To Be Continued**

**in**

**LOCK AND KEY - Part Three**

**Note:** I have classified this story as a Tragedy, a decision I still stand firmly behind. Therefore, I must say that the next chapter, is not going to be a happy one. I don't want to say any more now, however. Regarding this chapter, I hoped you enjoyed it, and please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	11. Lock and Key Part Three

"_And so the last, pitched phase of the descent began, a voyage into the depths as bad in its way as anything Dante had imagined. But there would be no beatific visions at the end, Theo felt bleakly certain. No shining city. Only the endless white corridors of the hospital ward."_

_**The War of the Flowers by Tad Williams**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **Here is the third and final year of Lilia's medical education. As I wrote briefly last chapter, this chapter is going to continue the theme of tragedy. There is also a scene which may upset some people, so I'm warning you now. Contains themes of a possible suicide.

CHAPTER ELEVEN - Lock and Key (Part Three)

The Summer Holiday - Revenant and The Organisation

Moscow

All around the world, the Roses were blooming much later than usual, but a thick cloud hung over Russia. For Lilia Derevko, this return to the _Rodina_ was welcomed greatly, but couldn't ease her mind.

Lost in the grey mist. It seemed appropriate somehow.

Walking down the main street, her feet clattering on the stone pavement, she cast her mind towards tomorrow. A reunion, of sorts. Tomorrow she would be in St Petersburg. She would have gone sooner, had she the opportunity. Of course, she couldn't. Still…

The bookshop a few streets ahead was her destination, a place she was always drawn towards. She had always found it strange, the way she felt so at home there. The smell of paper, the feel of the books. It was something she couldn't quite describe. It was a place of peace - and that was something her violent soul couldn't always understand.

--

Shifting the newly-bought books in her arms around, Lilia fumbled for her hotel key. Sliding it into the door, she twisted the handle, and entered the room, gently dumping the books on the bed. Twisting around, she went to the door, and shut it behind her.

Looking down, it was when she first saw the letter…and what was written on the front.

_To Revenant._

In utter shock, Lilia dropped the envelope; and then, getting a hold of herself, she picked it up, and went to sit on the bed.

_To the person known as Revenant,_

it read:

_Firstly, do not be alarmed, for we do not know who you are. The Russian postal service is a magical place indeed. A mystery to many people._

_Let our intentions be known, we need a killer. You are a killer. Therefore, we might be able to help each other._

_Revenant, you are lost. Let us help you find yourself._

_We will write again._

_**The Organisation.**_

--

At first, Lilia ignored the letter, burning it, and settling back on her bed, and reading well into the night.

The next day, she arrived at St. Petersburg, to be greeted by a grateful Anna. Both Mother and Daughter were overjoyed to see each other, and wasted no time catching up. But Lilia was distracted, and although Anna noticed it she said nothing.

Lilia was puzzled by the bizarre letter. Magical postal service? They were lucky if they even delivered. Yet it had found her. Would they write again. Her mother was not a fool, and Lilia would be deeply ashamed if Anna were to find out. Was ashamed to shallow? Lilia knew she would be more than ashamed.

Heartbroken.

--

Hermitage Park; St. Petersburg

It had always been one of her favourite haunts when she was a child, and now Lilia found refuge in the shadow of the museum. Darkness had fallen quickly over the city tonight, and she was out in the dark with all the monsters. Like herself.

She hated the self-loathing she was going through…but wasn't that itself a contradiction? She shook her head. Tonight wasn't the time to deal with her problems. She placed her hand down hard on the seat - but it didn't come down on wood. The paper was slightly damp, but very real. Panic coursed through her veins, she didn't know how to react. How were you _meant _to react?

By the light of the full moon, she read who it was addressed to:

_**Revenant, Hermitage Park**_

Inside was a brief, curt letter, asking her (extremely politely) to murder two people on their behalf.

She was indeed lost.

--

After considering it carefully over the next three nights, Lilia decided that she must comply. So reluctantly, she set about her task.

--

18th September 1994

University Hospital; Washington D.C.

She felt different.

Sitting in the same seat, with admittedly a different teacher before her. Could it only have been a year? Where had it gone?

Now was she just a common assassin? She wanted to heal people! She was sick of all the wretched questions! Her fragmented mind was drifting further and further apart. James smiled at her from across the room, but she could no longer comprehend, it was just too much, too much and…

"Greetings," said the woman in the white coat, "my name is Doctor Feist. I'll be taking over for Doctor Willis for the next few months. As you've heard, he has gone missing recently, and we are hoping…and indeed praying, for his swift, safe return. This term, we will be dealing with the brain, it's psychological elements, physical, and forensics. And for those of you pursuing Doctorates, don't forget, board exams in December, and you're dissertation must be in by May."

_Dr Willis? Missing? For once, that has nothing to do with me._

"…so let's get started. If you'll turn to page one hundred, seventeen, we'll begin."

_Again? Starting again. When will this end. What am I doing here? Why did I ever leave Russia?_

--

20th October 1994

Romania

Lilia looked around at the cold countryside and reminded herself why she still did this. She had been an assassin for some months, yet had not been called again, until three days ago. Her Aunt had been nothing short of flabbergasted.

"You're doing _WHAT_?"

"I'm, on my break Aunt," said Lilia, "I have to help a friend."

"_IN ROMANIA? SINCE WHEN DID YOU KNOW ANY ROMANIANS?"_

"I'm not going to argue with you Auntie. I'm leaving now."

And she did leave. Winona was of course unhappy, but she didn't really have a choice in the matter.

So now, Lilia was standing in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, next to a small house.

_Please kill her: _was what the note had read, polite and distant and cold. It also had instructions as to where to find this girl. In Romania.

Lilia sighed, and fingered her harpy. She knew that there was no time like the present.

--

The lock was extremely simple to snap, and she crept in to the darkened room. She had watched the house all day, and all she could discern was the target, who seemed to live alone.

When in the girl's bedroom, Lilia changed her mind. She was fighting back tears, for up close the girl was far younger than she had been lead to believe. She was as old as Lilia. Little more than a child.

"No," snarled Lilia quietly, "no. I won't do this." She turned to the door, her escape route in place.

Her efforts were in vain however. She refused to kill for this 'Organisation' again. But the girl was brutally murdered, and her death attributed to Revenant.

The internal politics of The Organisation were at that time in a state of flux, and one operative had disobeyed orders. As a punishment - and as a message, the upper hierarchy ordered his sister's death. His sister was the girl in Romania. When Lilia refused, The Organisation sent their own assassin. Of course they were not happy, but by their own admission, they did not know Lilia's true identity - so they were powerless to pursue.

Now, when the brother volunteered to find Revenant, during the murders in Washington, D.C. (in the present day) he met his death at the hands of Dr Hannibal Lecter, who himself was posing as Revenant at the time.

Confused? Believe me, so was Lilia.

That was the end of Lilia's involvement with The Organisation. She swore never to come so close to entrapment again. It was not so easy, as the rest of the year would prove; but to Lilia's credit, to that ideal she remained true.

--

18th November 1994

**MISSING DOCTOR FOUND IN AUSTRALIA**

**J. Noir**

Special Correspondent for The Washington Post

Doctor Willis, of the Washington, D.C. University Hospital was today located after a frantic search. Willis went missing during the summer, and when he didn't return from his holiday in Mexico, colleagues grew concerned. He refuses to state why he was in another country, and only responded after seeing a news bulletin. He apologise for the worry he has places on people, and is eager to return to work. University Hospital are currently debating whether to let him back.

--

4th December 1994

University Hospital; Washington, D.C.

With a triumphant (and rather unnecessary) flourish, Lilia flung down her pen, leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and sighed contentedly. She had finished.

She also knew that she had passed - it couldn't be any other way. The Boards exam was finished, and in the middle of a sea of scribbling pens, she floated, content.

"Excuse me," came a soft whisper from beside her, "there's still another hour of the test."

"I know, Doctor Willis," Lilia whispered back, "but I am completely finished."

"Very well," whispered Dr Willis, "but I'm afraid I can't let you go yet."

"I'm aware of that."

"Good. Hope you did well."

He moved on, and Lilia resumed her former position. Floating, bobbing on an empty sea. Finished.

--

25th December 1994

Home of Winona Davies, and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

Tucked inside Lilia's Christmas card was the following letter:

_Dearest Lilia,_

_I hate to write this for you to read this day. I'm a coward at heart - I know that. But frankly, I don't know what to do._

_I'm worried about you, Lilia. You've grown distant over the past year. We were once so close. I know it is hard, with your Insomnia, and what seems to me, depression. I just want to help._

_I love you, Lilia. There, I've said it (or rather, written it). You have to know that. If you never want to see my face again, then just tell me. But if you want me to be a part of your life, then please, please let me in. I'll do anything and everything I can._

_Please, have a very happy, restful Christmas, and give my love to your Aunt._

_**James.**_

"Oh, what a fool I've been," whispered Lilia, the letter cluttered in her hand. It was just past lunch, snow was falling outside, and Winona was snoring beside a rather large snifter of brandy. Well, it _was_ Christmas after all.

Lilia felt serene, and possible for the first time realised what she had put James through. Running to the kitchen, she grabbed a notepad and pen, and swiftly wrote:

_Auntie W,_

_Gone to James'._

_Love, L._

--

With the letter still clutched in her hand, and her coat forgotten in the hall, she flew out into the snow, and cold.

Rushing through the deserted streets, alone, small tears springing from her eyes, she soon reached James's small house. Taking a deep breath, (even though she was out of breath), she reached out and rang the doorbell. After a second, she impatiently hammered on the door for good measure.

She was still knocking when James opened it - and for a few moments she knocked on thin air.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," replied James. And that was all that was said. There was no need for anything more. Lilia grabbed James, and he, her. They stood, immobile, embraced in each others arms for what seemed like millennia.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, "it feels like I've been through hell. But I'm out again.

--

January - March 1995

The next three months were perhaps the happiest of Lilia's short life. She and James spent every waking hour by each other's side. Lilia started rotating in the hospital, as did the other students, and her job as nurse was getting easier. In February, she began the last rotation - in the ER. She was nearing the end of her education, and of her 'professional years'. It was all going so well.

If it just hadn't been for the detective.

--

18th March 1995

University Hospital; Washington, D.C.

The detective in question: Detective Raymond Green stamped out his cigarette, and with a paper held over his head to ward off the rain, hurried through the doors.

He scratched his straggly beard, and headed up to the reception.

"Can I help you?" asked the hassled nurse.

"Hi. My name is Raymond Green, I'm with the D. C. P. D. I need to speak with whoever's in charge. And can we please do it _quietly_."

The nurse looked up, and seeing his I. D. she raised an eyebrow.

"As quickly and quietly as possible, please," Green said.

The nurse let Green in, and told him to wait while she went to find a Dr Willis.

--

"Can I help you?" asked a young woman, who had a Russian accent.

"Doctor Willis? My name is Detective Green." He stopped when she held up a hand.

"My name is Lilia Derevko," said Lilia, "I'm a medical student. I saw that you were here, and wondered if you needed help. Could I ask why you're here?"

"Ma'am. I need to take one of your patients into custody, and I don't want to draw attention. It's about the Revenant case."

"What!" said Lilia, starting. Green looked at her oddly:

"Guilty conscience?" he said grinning.

"Something like that," she murmured, "who were you looking for?"

"Doctor Willis."

"I'll go get him," said Lilia.

--

James walked out of the door, a bundle of files in his hands. He had heard and seen everything. He didn't know what to think - why should he? - but somewhere in his mind, suspicions were raised.

--

1st April 1995

3rd Precinct; Washington, D.C.

"We have no more leads," said Detective Green, "the guy in the ER was clean. We have no forensics, nothing. I'm sorry Commander…but for now we have to close the case."

"Until this 'Revenant' kills again. Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Bump it up to the Feds. Their behavioural science section might find something. They're better equipped than us anyway."

"Alright Detective. You did your best. Lets see what the Bureau comes up with."

Of course, the case wouldn't be solved until the present day, by FBI Special Agent Clarice Starling. But that, of course, comes much later.

--

Home of Winona Davies and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

For Lilia, this day would alternately be the one of the best and one of the worst of her life. She had heard the news, that her case would be dropped by the Police. Her Aunt had just come home, looking rather distracted. The time is seven minutes past noon.

"Lilia," said Winona. Lilia looked up, and Winona continued speaking: "Lilia, I'm feeling rather tired. Would you mind if I go and take a nap?"

"Course not," said Lilia, "I'll cook tea if you want."

Winona smiled: "That'd be lovely."

--

When Winona had gone upstairs, Lilia realised that they had very little in. She didn't want to disturb her Aunt, and so decided to go and grab some money, and head to the local supermarket.

Realising also that she had no money, she went to her Aunt's bag, and got ten dollars. As she was putting Winona's purse back into the bag, she noticed a small leaflet. Curious, she reached in, and picked it out.

_How to deal with Cancer._

Disbelieving at first, Lilia put it back in, as if it had never been touched. Quietly, she went to do the shopping as if nothing had happened.

Silently she grieved, and later, in private, she wept and howled. She never let her Aunt know she knew, and Winona lived for two more years. But Lilia told James…although he seemed a little distracted. And it was because of James' distraction that Winona never told Lilia she was ill.

They say Life moves in a circle, but terrifyingly, so does Death.

--

9th April 1995

Home of James Wilkins; Washington, D.C.

11:57 p.m.

"You've been rather quiet this evening," said Lilia, "is anything the matter?"

Lilia was with James, in his brightly coloured bedroom, while James parents stayed at a friends. It was meant to be some time alone for the pair. And surprisingly, that scared James.

"Yes," said James, "something is the matter, Lilia. Something's wrong. It's been a horrible week. I know that it has been hard for you, what with your Aunt and all. But over the past eight days. I've learned the truth."

"Truth?" said Lilia, "Truth about what?" She looked startled as tears began to stream uncontrollably down James' face.

"The world," he said, "I've learned the truth about the world. About the depths of human cruelty. Of sadism." His face grew more wretched: "The truth about what I love. Loved. Love. I learned the truth about you, Lilia."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"_I KNOW!"_ he screamed.

--

10th April 1995

Midnight.

"Know what?" said Lilia, "James. I'm confused." She started to get up, but stopped when she saw James pointing a gun at her head.

"James," she said, her voice cautious, and a little scared, "James, put the gun down. What are you doing?"

"Shush," said James, tears still falling, his heart broken like a stained-glass window, "Lilia, let me take you on a journey. One that no-one else has yet discovered. Your father worked for the Mafia, as a murderer, until your mother shot and killed him defending you in 1986. A year earlier, the first 'Revenant' murder was committed. In St Petersburg, where you lived. You were ten years old. In '86, you came to the States, to live with your Aunt. The next murder was in '89, a homeless man. Witnesses claimed a young girl was a few streets away, but they were dismissed as irrelevant. No forensics. Next at your school, a foreign exchange student in '91. That's the one they blamed on rats. The city banker a year later. Then, last summer, the two people in Russia, when you were there. Finally, a girl in Romania. It happened in the two days that _you were there_. Jesus Christ, Lilia. What are you? Why?"

"I really have no-"

"No!" said James, "No excuses. Don't you _dare_ lie to me. It was you, Lilia. You did that to all those people."

"I never killed the Romanian girl," said Lilia, herself now crying, defeated, "and the first guy in Russia. When I was ten. He…he was going to rape me. I killed him. And I just couldn't stop." She looked up: "Do you have any idea how much I loathe myself? How much I despise what I've become. You've kept me sane, James. You've helped me so much."

"Hell," spat James, "I didn't keep you sane enough. And you didn't despise yourself enough to turn yourself in." He put his hands on his head and groaned softly.

"How did you find out, James?" asked Lilia quietly.

"Eight days ago. When you talked to that detective. It was your reaction. I know you, Lilia. At least I thought I did. Something seemed wrong…and I couldn't let it go. I had to know; one way or the other."

"Eight days," said Lilia, laughing bitterly, "you solved it in eight days. You chose the wrong profession. You should have been a detective."

"Yeah," said James, "and then I'll have never met you. That would have been for the best."

Lilia's face was wounded, and she closed her eyes.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked.

"Simple," said James, "it's so simple. I'm not going to tell anyone. I'll keep it secret. What you choose to do is between you and your conscience."

"James," she wept, "I love you."

"The love of a murderer. What is that worth? I don't know, Lilia. That's the truth. Where we go from here, I leave to you."

--

Several minutes later, their was a gunshot. It reverberated loudly and coldly, with no respect, throughout the house.

--

A minute after that, a hysterical Lilia called James' parents, and then the authorities. The police arrived within five minutes; and James' parents, not too long after that.

--

Due to James' depressed state of mind (according to his parents), forensic evidence and Lilia's testimonial, the Washington, D.C. Coroners Court returned a verdict of death by suicide, on the 12th of April 1995.

James had made no record of his accusations. The truth died with him.

No one in the world, but Lilia, knew what took place in those minutes…or indeed whether James' death was suicide; murder; or some bizarre accident. She alone knew that.

--

They say that information is the lock and key for the future.

After these events, Lilia had little interest in the future. But several months later, she received a letter from an old friend. The one who sent her down this path.

Lilia Derevko was about to leave education, and enter the world. Doctor Hannibal Lecter was very interested in what might occur there.

--

**Note:** Firstly, I'd like to apologise, as Lilia's discover of her Aunt's illness, is extremely similar to a scene in Tad Williams' novel The War of the Flowers. I'm afraid it was the only way I could make my scene work.

This has been the most difficult, heartwrenching and harrowing chapter I have ever had to write. 39 pages, and 10,262 words later, Lock and Key is finally over. At which point you say 'So why did you write it then?' My answer is simply this - this is how the story is meant to be. This was the story I devised. And as I have quite clearly stated, it _is_ a Tragedy. However, my playing about with chronology is wreaking havoc with continuity, and I think it just about hangs together. From the moment I began to write James Wilkins (who was originally to be called Tom; but decided against because Lilia's first boyfriend was Tommy), I knew that his character had to die. Bizarrely enough, I had envisioned him being caught in the crossfire of a bank robbery (don't ask); but in the middle of writing the previous few chapters, I settled on the confrontation. Did James commit suicide? Did Lilia murder him? Was it a tragic accident? In short, I myself have no idea. Sometimes I believe such things are best left unanswered. I only hope that I haven't offended anyone with the content - it wasn't intentional, and I have dealt with suicide before (though I'm not entirely sure anyone actually read it!). So, I hoped you enjoyed it, and please review.

**The Future of Her Burning Heart:** Just to let you know, the next four chapters, will continue the story of 1995 (it's a very busy year), up until the Christmas events of Chapter 7 - then the two concluding chapters will take us from '95 to the millennium, and of course the events of Lessons.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	12. Fallout

"_I had a lover who was once Russian. He once told me that vodka is to Russians as therapy is to Americans."_

"_Yeah, something habit forming and expensive that totally destroys your ability to lead an authentic life."_

_**Six Feet Under: In Place of Anger written by Christian Taylor**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **I realise the above quote might seem a little strange to some Russians and Americans, but it nicely fits with this chapter. After the last, rather harrowing one; Lilia is about to find life moves on - whether she wants it to or not.

CHAPTER TWELVE - Fallout

8th May 1995

University Hospital; Washington, D.C.

Doctor Willis looked at Lilia and frowned. Running a hand through his rapidly thinning hair, he sighed reluctantly, and walked over to the desk where Lilia was filling out paperwork.

"Lilia," he said softly. She looked up:

"Yes, Doctor?" Lilia's eyes were sad, the rest of her features cold. Not unfriendly - but empty. Sad. Lonely.

"Lilia. Look, you don't have to be here. You've finished you're exams, and you're training. I know you were considering the 'three professional years' but you've pretty much done that. You've still got your dissertation to hand in. You are pursuing a doctorate aren't you?"

"Yes."

"How's it going?"

"Alright. I've just got to pad it out. The bones are there."

"Then go home, for crying out loud. You've lost James, everyone understands how close you were. Take some time. You need to grieve. Lilia, you don't need to be here. I'll put you on paid sick leave myself."

"Thankyou Doctor Willis…but I need to be here. I have to be doing _something_."

"All right. If you want to go home early, just let me know." He smiled, and turned to leave.

"Doctor Willis?" called Lilia. Willis swivelled around, and Lilia continued, "If you don't mind…could I ask a personal question?" Willis nodded, "You disappeared. When you were in Australia. Could I possible ask why?"

Willis smiled again, looking slightly embarrassed. "Basically," he said, "basically I just wanted to be lost."

"Yeah," said Lilia, "I know the feeling."

--

10th May 1995

Airport; Washington, D.C.

"Your visa is in order, valid for four months."

"Thankyou very much," said Anna Derevko, picking up her belongings. She had been saving for years now - ever since her last visit - and due to the sad news that had befallen Lilia, she was glad she had.

Walking through the desks, she collected her suitcases (groaning slightly with the weight), and headed outside.

Where Lilia was waiting for her.

--

Mother and daughter were again joyfully reunited, but it was overshadowed by Lilia's pain. Perhaps because of Anna's prolonged absences in Lilia's life, it was she who noticed how different Lilia was, and how much she had changed in the year since they had last met. Winona - who saw Lilia every day - could not have noticed it. Subtle, over every day. But an absence of a year was enough for it to make a difference.

Anna kept to her own council, though. She didn't want to tip over an already bubbling pot.

Right now, she was here to care for her daughter, and care for her she would.

--

Late May - Early June

And in truth, Lilia needed looking after. She was close to completely breaking down. Racked with unimaginable guilt because of James' death, and the murders she had committed, she retreated into a shell of her own devising; throwing herself into her dissertation; or just reading a book, as still as a statue, the only movement from her hands, turning over the pages.

She ate, but reluctantly, as if she couldn't be bothered. Her depression was deep, complex, and impenetrable.

So Anna and Winona cared for her, as Lilia forced herself to continue living a life which held no point for her anymore.

--

10th June 1995

Lincoln Memorial; Washington, D.C.

The breeze blew Lilia's long brown hair out behind her. She threw her head back, and took a long drink from a water bottle.

"Don't do that, dear," said Anna.

"What, mum?"

"Don't throw your head back. It's so fragile."

"Alright, mum."

They just sat there, silently, content in their own company, watching the world go by.

Until…

"Lilia. I know you're deeply depressed. Well, what I was wondering: do you think therapy might help?"

Lilia turned to her mother, her beautiful eyes empty, and shook her head: "No. Mum…I lost the person I loved. I loved James with all my heart. I…I just need to move on by myself. I need time."

"I understand," said Anna, "and Lilia. I know how private you are. Especially because of what Constantine was like. But if you need to talk…well, I'm here."

"Thankyou," said Lilia, and she truly meant it. There was another pause, and then Anna said:

"By the way. How's your dissertation going?"

"Handed it in today."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you. It's quite good…I rather like it."

"Do you know when you find out the results?"

"Fifteen days."

"That's a bit quick," said Anna.

"Yeah, but there's only two of us that are going for it. I've already passed the boards exams."

"Yes," replied Anna, smiling proudly, "the only person in ten years to score perfect marks."

Lilia smiled a little too: "Well, I thought it was the easiest exam in ten years. I sat all of the previous ones for practise, and I didn't do as well. Just enough to pass."

--

25th June 1995

Home of Winona Davies and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

There was much vodka drunk tonight, and Lilia, Anna and Winona all slept soundly.

Lilia had been awarded the doctorate

And so Doctor Lilia Derevko (though it would not be official to her graduation) allowed herself to relax a little. She was quiet, and peaceful, though still very sad. She had been whisked off to a Russian restaurant as soon as the results had been opened, in the late afternoon. They had ate and drunk plenty, and Lilia allowed herself to enjoy it a little. Lilia didn't come here often, it made her too homesick, but with Anna here it didn't matter so much.

Now, at home, her Aunt and Mother were asleep, (and snoring, which was rather irritating), and Lilia was tired. For once her insomnia wasn't affecting her so deeply. So she put down her book, switched off the light, and fell to sleep, sweetly, in the snoring of her family.

--

30th June 1995

Just outside University Hospital; Washington, D.C.

"Congratulations, dear." Lilia turned, and her face fell. The woman who had just spoken was called Leigh Wilkins, and she was James's mother.

"Hello, Mrs Wilkins. How are you?"

"I'm alright dear. Alan is fine as well, by the way, he's here somewhere. How are you holding up?"

"As well as too be expected, I suppose."

"Of course. Well, like I said, many congratulations." She leaned over, and kissed Lilia's cheek. Then, perhaps as an afterthought, she added: "Don't blame yourself, Lilia. You couldn't possible have known. And please don't avoid us."

With that, she turned and walked off. Lilia had no idea why they had come…unless they had come to see her graduate.

Lilia didn't know what to do, or what to say - and the day could only get stranger.

She looked back, at the bright green grass, and the stage she had been on only minutes before. She was now Doctor Lilia Derevko, with three years (almost) experience as a nurse, and a boyfriend who had died in front of her.

Where would she go from here? She just didn't know what to do with her life.

No idea at all.

--

Home of Winona Davies and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

The shrill metallic ringing jerked Lilia out of her thoughts. She was still wearing her graduation gown (minus the cap), and getting up was a little bit of a struggle from the living room chair.

"I'll get it," she called to Anna and Winona, who were in the kitchen. Moving towards the hall, Lilia pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"_Hello, Lilia. This is Matthew Reeves. May I express my condolences for your loss, and my congratulations on your doctorate. Very well deserved."_

"You," snarled Lilia, her voice filled with venom, "what the hell do you want?"

"_Aptly mentioned. I realise you are in a state of hell at this moment. I wish to help you. I would like to talk."_

"What do we possible have to talk about?"

"_Come and find out. My rented accommodation is at," _he told her the location,_ "Please arrive at midnight tomorrow. Bye now."_ The phone went dead, and Lilia slowly replaced the receiver.

She despised herself…this man was one of the causes of James' death. No, she shook her head, that was purely her own fault.

So, hating herself more, she came to the understanding that she would go…

**Note:** To be continued! This chapter was finished on the 20th May - so there's one month to go to my two year anniversary as a fan fiction writer. What's scarier, however, is this story was started precisely eleven months ago. (Except of course for the two months I was computer-less!) So I am hoping to finish on that date, one month from now - as well as DayNight and A Hole In The Head (but there are only three chapters of those combined, so it's not so much). Then of course, I'll merge again into the concluding story in the series. I wrote at the start that this would get confusing - and I was certainly right. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	13. For A Cup of English Tea

"_You didn't just come here to have tea, did you?"_

"_There are biscuits too."_

_**Noir: Moonlit Tea Party written by Ryoe Tsukimura**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **As the above quote implies, this chapter was partly influenced by the aforementioned episode of 'Noir'. And on a side-note, this chapter was written accompanied by copious amounts of tea, and raspberry liquorice - a combination I can certainly recommend!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - For A Cup Of English Tea

2nd July 1995

It is The Witching Hour - that dead time of night where the world is without time. Not the previous day, but not quite the day after. Between midnight, and one a.m. everywhere is transformed into a netherworld.

The ancients believed this hour was where the night daemons ruled, laughing and playing and tormenting innocent mortals.

Nowadays, in the larger cities, this time is more likely to be as busy as during the bright days. Now, the daemons have a more mortal touch, stealing, and raping, and killing. All in the shadows of the night.

The sun has only just set in the city of Washington, D.C. It is sticky, with a hot wind that makes most inhabitants switch on their rarely-used air conditioning. Those that can afford it, anyway.

Following the enigmatic invitation, two night's before, Doctor Lilia Derevko is sitting in the rented apartment of Doctor Hannibal Lecter. She had been there half an hour, and she was - to put it quite mildly - unhappy.

--

Accommodation of Dr Hannibal Lecter; Washington, D.C.

"I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE GAMES!" Lilia screamed, furiously, "THE MAN THAT I LOVE IS DEAD. YOU STARTED ME DOWN ON THIS ROUTE. YOU AND MY WRETCHED FATHER!"

In direct juxtaposition to Lilia's wrath, Dr Lecter is the very embodiment of serenity. He blinks calmly, and raises the cup of tea to his lips, taking a deep sip. He looks around, at the dark room, artfully lit with three candles, with moonlight and starlight (and streetlights) streaming in through the windows. When he has replaced his cup, he gestures for Lilia to sit (which she does), and says, very softly:

"I will admit to some of the responsibilities, regarding Mister Wilkins' death. But you had killed before you came to America, Lilia. You cannot blame me for that."

"I wouldn't presume to," said Lilia, "but you gave me that blade. You have encouraged me to kill."

"Yes," said Dr Lecter, "but you would have no doubt steered me down that direction, had your Aunt not steered you towards me."

"What? You said you were an old friend of my Aunt. I know you treated her…but you wanted me to keep your contact a secret. You're saying Auntie Winona is orchestra all this."

"No. I received a letter in nineteen eighty-six, when you were being brought over from America, from your Aunt, asking me to look after you. I was still incarcerated of course, and had to destroy the letter. I learnt my lesson after Francis Dolarhyde. Anyway, I resolved to grant that request. Ergo, we are now at this juncture."

"But it's all games, isn't it, to you? You are in this for nothing but your own pleasure."

"Obviously. I cannot work, I must stay to the shadows. I am leaving America again tomorrow. I would not be doing this if it were not interesting. I find you tremendously interesting, Lilia."

"But if James knew…then surely someone else could find out. He discovered it in eight days!"

"I don't think anyone could replicate that," said Dr Lecter, "for he had an intimate connection with you. Did you have sex with him?"

"That is none of your goddamn business!"

Lecter smiled slightly: "Fair enough. But whatever type of relationship you shared, you were bound. You must be wary of that, Lilia, if you intend to pursue further _amours."_

"But how am I meant to respond to that?"

"By indication you would like another cup of Assam."

--

Lilia swallowed her fifth cup of tea, her anger long since spent, and set the cup down, with a slight _clink_ on the china.

"Why do I kill, Doctor?" she asked.

"Ah. That I can't answer, Doctor Derevko. For every killer in the world, has there own reasons…and only you can find yours. It is locked deep within your subconscious mind. I'm sorry, I can't help you there."

"Why do you kill?"

"Because to taste human flesh, the person must die. It wouldn't be humane any other way. Though I particularly enjoy the rude. Free range rude, is what I call them. Those with no manners deserve everything that's coming to them."

Lilia smiled at that: "Yes. They do say manners maketh man. Or woman."

"Indeed."

--

"I feel such remorse at James' death," Lilia said, her eyes glancing down, "and how I wish I could have somehow…"

"That can be frustrating. Accidents happen. Innocents lose their lives. There are many in this world who deserve to die, who live; and many more, who deserve to live, who are dead. It is an inescapable fact of live, and one you will have to learn to live with. Your heart will break, you will weep, wail, gnash your teeth, but you will have to go on. Time does not stop for your convenience."

"Have you ever lost anyone you cared about?"

"Yes," said Dr Lecter, his face falling slightly, "when I was very young. My sister. She was taken by marauders. I've never forgiven myself for letting her go. I tried to save her…but I was too young."

--

"What are your plans now?"

Dr Lecter looked up: "As I said earlier, I need to disappear for a while. So I'll drop off the face of the planet, and retreat a little. I'm afraid that I can't tell you where I'm going - I'm still not entirely sure myself. I get on a plane, then see where it takes me. There are many wonderful things to experience, and I intend to sample many."

He took another sip, then continued: "And you. What do you intend to do?"

"I have no idea," said Lilia, "I'm a Doctor now. Yet I've always kept what you told me, three years ago. That I should try for the FBI. I have the three years in a professional job that I need, and a significant qualification. The idea is tremendously appealing. Yet, I still find it terribly contradictory. They should be arresting me, and if I go to work for them, it would be difficult if I were to kill again."

"Yes," said Dr Lecter, "but the rewards would be significant. Just think a moment. You would have a foot in the door, that would aide you tremendously. You could influence investigations, if you got to the right position. It would be tremendously beneficial to you, in your endeavours."

"So you think I should join?"

"I do."

"Of course, if you were to be captured, I would be in a position to help you."

"No," said Lecter sharply, "no I would never ask that. If it were to compromise you, then it would be wrong of me to put you in such a position. If I were to be captured, then I would have to rely on my skills. Please, do not concern yourself, or put yourself in harm's way. I could never forgive myself if you were exposed."

"I understand," said Lilia."

--

So, after many hours of talking, the tea party was at an end. Ever the gentleman, Dr Lecter walked Lilia to the door. Standing on the frame, she kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Goodbye," she whispered, her accent thick.

"Adieu, Doctor Derevko," smiled Hannibal.

The killers turned and parted.

--

The Empty Streets of Washington, D.C.

Lilia left Dr Lecter's accommodation precisely six hours after she had arrived. After the short, dark night, she started to walk home, as the sun began to rise.

When she arrived home, she walked softly into her bedroom, closed the door, changed into her nightclothes, and fell asleep.

Winona and Anna never knew that she had gone.

The next time that Lilia met Dr Lecter was when he murdered her.

**Note:** The above chapter is merely sections of the full conversation between the two doctors, but I'm afraid I cannot write the full six hours! Hence, the highlights. Next chapter, will regard Lilia's FBI training. I hope that you've enjoyed this chapter, and please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	14. All The Way To The FBI

"_Ask me why I'm smiling."_

"_I will, because it's scaring me."_

_**Angel: Waiting In The Wings written by Joss Whedon**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **Again, I am deeply indebted to Penelope S. Cartwright for her information regarding FBI Training, as well as the memoirs of Candice DeLong.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - All The Way To The FBI

18th December 1995

FBI Academy; Quantico, Virginia

It was at this moment in time and space, that Lilia Derevko decided she despised Agent Penance Frost. She had hated her from pretty much the moment they had first met, but running round the Marine Assault Course, in the dead of winter, in the worst blizzard to hit Quantico for a century - and that is was unscheduled, she had only been informed by her smug teacher an hour before - that this was unnecessary, and…oh, Lilia was lost for words.

This was the only class out. Known as 95-6: the sixth class accepted in 1995; it was headed by Frost, a woman with a dark reputation. And now, Lilia's hatred had expanded to the point of utter malice. She would put that vindictive little _bitch_ in her damn place.

And it had started so well…

--

7th September 1995

J. Edgar Hoover Building; Washington, D.C.

FBI Director Tunberry walked onto the stage, in front of the thirty new recruits, and sighed. Was it just him, or were they getting younger? Must be a sign of his getting old. Sighing bitterly, he sipped from his glass of water, and cleared his throat.

"Welcome, class ninety-five six. Welcome to the FBI Academy. Before you will be handed over to your primary instructor, Penance Frost, I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce myself, and to talk a little about what will be expected of you. All of you before me, are the best and the brightest from around the country. Yes, a little cliché, but truth nonetheless. You all have spent three years in jobs serving others, from the emergency services, nurses, doctors. The list goes on. If you pass this year, if you can reach the pinnacle of your potential, then your service to this country would be immense. Hardships lay before you, danger and terror. We are here to protect this great country, and you should all be proud to be brave enough to answer that need. Ladies, and gentleman. Welcome to the Academy."

--

8th September 1995

FBI Academy; Quantico, Virginia

When she had applied for the FBI, Lilia hadn't quite expected this.

"Keep moving!" was the bellowing cry from the Instructor, as Lilia kept running. During her stay, there would be three fitness tests, and the first was scheduled for the second day in.

As she ran, her mind flitted over a few things. She had a small apartment (or rather, two rooms), but it was clean, and quite nice, and she didn't have to share it with anyone else. She was quite looking forward to dinner, and a quiet night reading. She had some textbooks to glance over, and a pile of novels by her bed.

It wasn't what she had expected.

But she would stick at it.

--

27th October 1995

Her first test had gone well, and now, six weeks in, Lilia faced the same test.

It had been a quiet, and intensive start to the year, and Lilia found herself intrigued.

She hadn't made many friends, instead deciding to be solitary. Her schedule was busy, and the effects of James' deaths still affected her deeply. Psychologically speaking, she didn't want to get close to anyone, for fear of losing them.

Was loneliness better than loss?

--

17th November 1995

"Giovanni! On your left!"

Giovanni Jackman spun, his green eyes glinting, raising his pistol from it's former position: pointed at the floor. He aimed at the silent figure before him, and pulled the trigger. The hammer hit the chamber with a large 'click', but no bullet was expelled - for it wasn't loaded.

However, for the purposes of this exercise, such force was not needed, and the silent figure dropped to the floor, playing dead (though quite obviously breathing).

"Thanks, Lilia," he said, in his clipped British accent, "much obliged." He dropped to the floor, and scanned the area. Lilia followed suit.

A claxon sounded, and the lights in the area came on. It was night, and the sudden juxtaposition made Lilia and Giovanni blink frantically.

"Well done," said Penance Frost, "but you could have done better. Nice shooting Mister Jackman, but Miss Derevko? Shouldn't you have shot the attacker yourself?"

"I was too far away. I was near to Giovanni, and could have hit him," said Lilia.

"Interesting response," said Frost, "but there was no way you could know that. And even as Mister Jackman hit the attacker, your yell could have given your position away, if there had been more hostiles. Be more careful in the future."

Lilia held her tongue, but she knew her comments would not be welcomed. This was one time not to fight back.

--

18th December 1995 continued

"There are times," complained Giovanni, "that I really hate Frost."

"Times?" cried Lilia, "So not all the time then?"

"She does seem to have it in for us." He tried to wipe the snow from his face, but it just kept getting replaced constantly.

"I'm just so cold," said Lilia, "I suppose you find that strange from a Russian."

"Hell," said Giovanni, "I'm British. We invented bad weather, for crying out loud. This is excessive."

"Notice she isn't here with us?"

"Frost wouldn't sully her hands in the frost, then?"

"Something like that," said Lilia.

--

Five miles later, the run was over, and the class slowly made their way back to the accommodations. As they walked through the buildings they passed Frost, who had a slightly smug smile on her face.

Lilia glared at her, despising everything she stood for, refusing to be beaten, and glad to be getting home. It was Christmas. Always room for more mistletoe and wine.

--

25th December 1995

Home of Winona Davies, and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

Midday.

With a mouthful of chicken and gravy, Lilia was talking: "And she's just a nightmare. How she can get away with it?"

"I know," said Winona, a glint in her eye, "as you have told me the past seven days! But you're coping with her…"

"Yeah. You know what, Auntie. I bet she is alone, right now. I'd be surprised if anyone else could stand to be near her."

Quarters of Agent Penance Frost; Quantico, Virginia

Still midday.

Lilia's prediction was accurate. With cold snow falling outside, Penance sat at her quiet table. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, sparsely decorated. The room was fairly dark, because Penance didn't want to be reminded of the barrenness. She had sent out a few cards, but received none in return. There were no presents under her tree. The same pattern, every single year.

Penance Frost was alone in the world.

She stabbed her fork viciously into the piece of steak, and cut a slice off. Placing it into her mouth, she winced. It was cold, as cold as her name, as cold as the world outside, as cold as the weather, as cold as Penance Frost.

A tear tricked down her cheek, swiftly followed by a flood. Alone, and isolated, Frost howled in loneliness and despair.

Crying with a cold Christmas dinner

--

INTERLUDE: 7th September 1995 - 5th April 1996

It's called a layered background check, and all FBI Agents receive it.

When a prospective Agent applies for the Academy; when they are in training, a group of Agents will interview virtually everybody the applicant knows. Then they interview virtually everybody the previous interviewee knows. Hence: 'layered'.

With Lilia, there wasn't many people. They couldn't find Kitty; James was dead, and his parents had nothing but highest praise for Lilia; her work was described as good by the University Hospital; Anna explained about Constantine; and Winona didn't mention she knew Hannibal Lecter.

Lilia Derevko was the first, and (thankfully) only Serial Murderer to pass the layered check.

END OF INTERLUDE

--

9th January 1996

FBI Academy; Quantico, Virginia

It's called Hogan's Alley, and throughout the world it is infamous as the proving ground for aspiring agents. Today, they would be using targets, but shooting with real bullets. Medics would be standing by, but they had to learn the dangers of friendly fire.

Five trainees stood crouched behind boxes. Paintballs were being fired towards them, by random, to simulate desperate cover fire. Each time a target was shot in a vital area (head, or heart), that machine would stop working. It was a nice system.

Paintball were flying left, right and centre, and the trainees were pinned down.

"We have to move soon," said Giovanni, "there is a time limit."

"Alright," said Lilia, "Swern, and Rowan, lay down covering fire."

"Hey!" said Rowan, "Who put you in charge?"

"Shut up," snapped Giovanni, then nodded for Lilia to continue.

"Giovanni, Neville, get to those crates further forward, and snipe as accurately as you can. I'll head to the opposite side. We'll create a crossfire. And try not to hit each other. Now move!"

Swern and Rowan moved forward, and started to fire, aiming towards the targets. They managed to hit the centre one - which was fairly lucky - as it was the most dangerously positioned. Giovanni took off, with Neville in hot pursuit, firing as they went. Rowan was the first to empty his clip, so while he reloaded, Lilia decided to make her move. Keeping her eyes on the targets, she leaped forward, and desperately shot at the one to her right (for Giovanni and Neville were trying to hit to the left). Using her ballet skills, she gracefully dodged the balls that came near her easily, and kept firing until the right target was hit. Then, shifting her balance, she aimed and with her last bullet hit the left target. She was a little late though, as she heard a muffled 'ungh' behind her. She turned and Swern was falling backwards, a large glob of pink paint stuck to his forehead.

Yet they had prevailed. Pushing her hair back from her eyes, Lilia clicked the safety on her gun, then holstered it. She looked to the supervising agents, and was surprised to see them all staring at her, mouths wide open.

"You're the first group to have ever completed that task," gasped one, "erm…ever. You lost one person-"

"And you wouldn't have lost any, if you'd followed procedure!" snapped Frost, storming onto the area; "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was Miss Derevko? While you so coolly took command, one of your team is dead, and the rest were in mortal danger. What the blazes do you think you're playing at?"

"I wasn't play-" began Lilia, but Frost interrupted:

"Don't interrupt! Yes, you many have been the first group to have succeeded, but you are taught to stay down when under fire! Not try fancy acrobatics, like you're in some wretched John Woo film. This is not fiction, Miss Derevko, this is your life. But not just your life, the lives of those around you. Frankly, you'd better learn that if you wish to remain here!"

Angrily, she stormed off, leaving an equally angry Lilia in her place. One of the supervising agents, seeing her anger, came over, and whispered: "Don't worry. We were all extremely impressed."

Sadly, that wasn't enough for Lilia.

--

SECOND INTERLUDE: Lilia's Classes

This year of training was extremely intensive for Lilia, and something she found extremely challenging. The full list is too full to mention here, but here are some of the more important ones.

Guns play a large and important part in the life of an FBI agent - for their very lives might depend on one. As such, their training is treated importantly as well. The FBI teaches a specific stance, with the gun held to the side of the body, with both hands in a combat situation; and pointed at the floor in ready positions. It might be all well and good for James Bond to hold his gun upright, but for those of us whose name isn't Pierce Brosnan, would get our noses shot off.

There are physical exercises (remember, Quantico is a Marines base as well), and their famed assault course is a regular fixture for a trainee FBI Agent (Lilia did fairly well with this, but enjoyed this section rather less, it must be admitted).

The Academics are split into several areas, from Behavioural Sciences, to Criminal Law, and Interrogation techniques. Regular classes are held.

When it comes to tests (which again are regular), trainees are required to get 85 percent right. If they fall below this, they are allowed one more shot at the test, and if they fail again, they are "washed out", and given a bus ticket home.

It's hard, it's cruel, but in a way, it's necessary. At least the terrible sexism of the eighties is no longer with the FBI.

Because Frost wasn't sexist. She just hated everybody.

END OF SECOND INTERLUDE

--

28th March 1996

Woods nr Quantico, Virginia

"Well, well, well," said Lilia desperately trying not to gloat, and failing miserably, "what a state of affairs."

Wait a minute, let me back up.

Half an hour ago, Penance Frost, FBI Agent, had fallen down one of the cliffs that surrounded Quantico. Let's just say that she was in quite some pain.

Three minutes ago, Lilia Derevko, serial killer, had found her.

"So what, Miss Derevko, do you find so amusing? That your monstrous teacher has fallen on hard times? Are you really that petty?"

Lilia just kept smiling, and Frost continued:

"Aren't you quite the Cheshire Cat? Will you kill me, and hide the body? Or just leave me to rot?"

"Ask me why I'm smiling," said Lilia.

"I will, because it's scaring me."

"Agent Frost…you're human. I can tell you're alone, so you hold to your namesake. You shut yourself away from the world, and try to make the pain go away. But it doesn't work. Believe me, I tried. You're human, Agent Frost, not a monster. I just wish you didn't act like one all the time. Now let me help you up."

So Lilia did. Penance turned out to have a sprained ankle, but it was bad enough that she was laid up for a week. Lilia was the only one to visit her.

Afterwards, Penance was still hard on her students, but not cold and cruel. She even resolved to make some friends.

I don't know whether she ever managed to attain her goal.

--

1st April 1996

Excerpts of Transcript, taken from second interview (of two) of Lilia Derevko

FBI Academy; Quantico, Virginia

FBI: Why do you wish to join the FBI?

Derevko: I guess that I wanted to help people. I see so much pain around me, because of crime, and I wanted to help.

FBI: Have you ever killed anybody?

Derevko: No. As you already know, my mother killed my father in defence of me. But I, myself, have not.

FBI: Death seems to surround your family. Your boyfriend committed suicide, your mother killer your father, and as to your Aunt's husband.

Derevko: I had no control over any of it. How could I?

FBI: Did you support the Communist state, during your time in Russia.

Derevko: Excuse me?

FBI: Did you-

Derevko: No, I heard you. What do my political views have to do with this?

FBI: Sometimes they can be helpful asserting the true nature of a person.

Derevko: Fine, no I didn't support the Communist state, because I left when I was eleven. I lean to the left, but you already knew that.

--

27th April 1996

Utter silence reigned in the hall as Lilia wrote the last few words of her final exam. This was it. The past year rested on these last few words.

She had passed everything else, easily attaining the 85 percent required. It was so important to her, and just a few words could make a difference.

Finishing, she set down the pen, and sighed. Now she must wait.

--

15th May 1996

Home of Winona Davies, and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait for too long, and when she opened her results, she was happy. For the first time, in what seemed like forever, she was happy. A long phone call to St Petersburg ensued.

--

Dinner, later that night,

"Aunt," said Lilia, through a mouthful of food, "I was thinking. I'm twenty-one…and to get to J. Edgar Building…well, it's the other side of Washington. I was just wondering…maybe I could get a little place."

"You want to move out?" asked Winona.

"Not so much. Just set up on my own. I mean, I'd come and see you everyday, but I've got three years of nurses salary saved up. I could get somewhere nice."

"Alright," smiled Winona, "we'll see what there is."

--

20th May 1996

FBI Academy; Quantico, Virginia

Lilia walked onto the stage, to polite applause from the audience; which consisted of her fellow graduates, their families and some agents. Lilia noted that Agent Frost was present, as well as the infamous Clarice Starling - who Lilia had met, all those years ago.

"Doctor Lilia Derevko," said Director Tunberry, who enthusiastically shook Lilia's hand. His other hand connected with Lilia's other hand as they held her new FBI credentials. A light flashed, and Lilia heard the whir of a camera. This moment recorded for all history.

"Welcome to the FBI," smiled Tunberry, and Lilia nodded, and walked off the other edge of the stage, into her family, and the throng of the masses.

--

24th June 1996

J. Edgar Hoover Building; Washington, D.C.

When Lilia first arrived, on her first day, she didn't quite know what to expect. She was fielded to reception, and given her assignment.

She was to work in the forensic department, backing up Behavioural Sciences - which was quite an honour for somebody fresh out of the Academy.

So, on this fine sunny day, Lilia Derevko, serial killer, nurse, forensic scientist, doctorate holder, Agent of the FBI, began her career, and her new life.

**Note:** My account of Lilia's run through Hogan's Alley is fictionalised, because I don't know what it looks like; although it does exist. Now, I realise that this won't be finished by the twentieth, unless it is badly rushed, and will probably end up quite awful, so I'm going to finish DayNight and A Hole In The Head for my anniversary, and keep writing this.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	15. The Day The World Ceased To Exist

"_Ernest Hemingway once wrote: 'The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for'. I agree with the second part."_

_**SE7EN written by Andrew Kevin Walker**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **I'm not sure whether the stranger sequences are appropriate, but I like writing surreal dream sequences. I even wrote two entire stories which _were_ surreal dream sequences (but not many actually read them!). And apologies for the length of time since I wrote the last chapter, but I've had a rough few months. Now, this is where it gets confusing. This chapter is set after Lilia's training, but before the time Lilia wrote her note about her soul and Christmas (Chapter Seven). I guess I've only myself to blame for that…

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - The Day The World Ceased To Exist

19th October 1996

Washington, D.C.

"C'mon. Just a fix. Just a little bit. To take the pain, y'know." The girl's voice was whiny and rather dull, and to Michael Roscoro, her glassy eyes looked dead. Or would be, soon.

The girl was known as Angela, surname a mystery. She was addicted to heroin, and Roscoro was her supplier.

"I'm a nice guy," said Michael, his hands shoved in his pockets, "I'm generous, Angela. I've given you three hits now, out of the goodness of my heart. You promised to pay. But here we are, right on the edge. I need my money, Angela, and I need it now."

"Mikey…come on. You know I'm good for it."

Michael shook his head: "You like baseball, Angela. You know about three strikes, and you're out? This is you're fourth one, and you owe me several thousand now. It's racking up. So what you gonna do?"

"What can I do, Mikey? I'm dyin' here."

"Boo hoo."

"Mikey!"

"My heart bleeds for you. But my pocket don't. So what you gonna do?"

"I'm broke, Mikey! That's the truth. Work's dried up, 'round here. You know it as well as I do. I need a fix, and soon. But I can't get you the money just yet."

"Too bad," said Michael, taking his right hand out of his pocket, drawing a small silver pistol, cocking it, and pulled the trigger.

Angela never knew what hit her…and when rumours of her death spread, the many people who owed Michael Roscoro money, stumped up, pretty sharpish.

Sometimes you've just got to make an example.

--

Unknown Location

Eternity.

It stretched before Lilia Derevko like an ocean; swirling sands, and darkness echoing before her.

It was an abyss. Empty and lifeless, yet oddly beautiful.

She looked upwards and saw the stars, which glittered with a burgundy tint.

But when she looked back down, the eternity was disappearing, stretching and shifting. The abyss was swallowing itself.

When there was nothing left, (and this didn't take long), all that was left was the Earth, shaped like a tangerine, floating, an object in space.

Then without so much as a whisper, it blinked right of existence.

--

Home of Lilia Derevko, Washington, D.C.

Lilia awoke calmly, her eyes opening without fuss or hesitation. She knew exactly where she was, and a feeling of calm had descended on her. These dreams, albeit strange, were not disturbing. The head of James', rammed rudely on a pike, quoting Shakespeare was disturbing.

Getting out of bed, she headed quickly to the bathroom, and undressing, got into the shower.

Her schedule was exact, and comforting.

A little boring, though.

--

20th October 1996

Behavioural Science; Quantico Virginia

Agent Cartwright was having a bad day.

There was no other way to put it, for in a polite, civilised world, Agent Cartwright's job would be totally unnecessary. So she alternately hated and loved her job. Loved it for the challenge, but hated it for what it said the world meant.

On this cold day, there are twenty-two serial murderers (including the then-dubbed 'K.F.C.', and of course, Doctor Hannibal Lecter) at large, probably in the United States of America. It was Agent Cartwright's job to capture them all. With a little help. Emphasis being on the word 'little'. Behavioural Science was understaffed, over budget, and generally exhausted. Yet it was such a crucial department, that few could say no to it's requests. After all, it wasn't exactly, their collective faults.

Slurping down a cup of coffee, Agent Cartwright winced, as it scolded her tongue. She slammed the cup down, making the papers fly in the air, and the table shake slightly. The cup didn't break, and not a drop of acrid liquid was spilt. She had perfected this release of frustration into an art form.

Before her lay the evil of the world. She did not flinch, she couldn't; for that would mean defeat. It would mean that they were stronger than her.

In seventy-two days, she would capture the third person on the ten-most wanted list. She would be gravely injured doing so, but would recover. The pain she is about to encounter was a willing sacrifice of her flesh, and her blood.

But today, on this cold October (late) morning, she was worried. The Boggart would strike again. She was waiting for confirmation. She knew the phone would ring any moment, and she dreaded it's shrill ring.

Sure enough, the inevitable happened, and before the first ring had ended, her hand had shot out and grabbed the receiver.

"Cartwright," she said.

--

Crime Scene; Washington, D.C.

"It's not our guy," said Jack Crawford, Section Chief, wrapped up in a trench coat to counter the chill, "It's not Boggart."

"_I don't know whether to be happy or sad. Do we know who it is."_

"No record. Female, Caucasian, young, junkie. Derevko, at Forensics matched fingerprints. It's some guy named Roscoro, Michael. Some small time pusher, aiming big. I think Narcotics want him. Slight problem, DNA was contaminated, and the fingerprint isn't enough to build an entire case. We need stronger evidence, but it's a step forward. Shame about the price."

"_Thanks, sir. I'll get to work with the updated profiles. Shall I give this to Starling?"_

"Yes, as soon as possible."

"_Alright."_

Cartwright put the phone down without saying goodbye. That was something she'd learned from Crawford.

--

Narcotics - J. Edgar Hoover Building; Washington, D.C.

"Starling." She brushed an errant hair off her nose, and leaned back in her chair.

"_Clarice, this is Cartwright, over at Behavioural Science. We've got good news and bad news."_

"You've got the Boggart?"

"_No, worse luck. I don't know what it is with this guy. There's been a murder, and we were sent out. No idea why, completely different M.O. We got a fingerprint, but just one. Michael Roscoro."_

"Son of a bitch! We got him."

"_Nope, sorry. The DNA was contaminated. You don't have enough for a warrant, let alone a conviction. But it's still a step in the right direction."_

"Yeah. Not quite the news I was hoping for. Who's handling forensics?"

"_Lilia Derevko."_

"The new graduate. That whizzkid. I've been meaning to meet her."

"_Well now's your chance. Look, Clarice, I'm sorry this isn't anything more, and I have to go. Crawford's still pushing to get you a position over here, no luck yet."_

"Thanks," said Clarice, "it means a lot."

"_Not at all," _finished Cartwright putting the phone down. She would end up being the next victim of the Boggart, twenty days from now - but at least it would be painless, and that's more than could be said for the majority of it's victims.

Twenty-one days from now, the Boggart would be caught. Slim comfort for Cartwright, mind.

"Matt?"

Matthew Ito looked up, his neck cricking slightly: "Yes, Clarice."

"Roscoro just murdered someone, but it's not enough to build a case. I'm heading over to forensics."

Matt just nodded, and went back to his file.

--

Forensics - J. Edgar Hoover Building; Washington, D.C.

"Cola, indeterminate brand." This was Clarice's welcome from Lilia Derevko, her accent thicker than usual.

"At the risk of sounding stupid," said Clarice, "but huh?"

Lilia looked up, her hair flying back: "Agent Starling? Clarice Starling?"

"You know me?"

"Uh, no. But it's an honour to meet you at last." Lilia smiled, and Clarice smiled back, confused. Of course this wasn't the first time they had met…but in the chase for Jame Gumb, she had completely forgotten little Christine.

"So," said Clarice, "what were you saying about cola?"

"Actually it's an urban myth. I was examining some blood from the crime. They say cola helps wash away blood. Actually it does, to some degree. More so than just water, but it doesn't get rid of it completely. More fool he, but difficult for me. Anyway, how may I be of service Miss Starling?"

"Doctor Derevko," but before Clarice could finish her statement, Lilia held up her hand:

"Call me Lilia, please."

"Then I'm Clarice. Anyway, Lilia, I'm obviously frustrated by this lack of evidence; not your fault of course, but we need something to nail this guy."

"Yes, I'm puzzled by the level of contamination. As horrible as it is, you will have to wait for him to kill again, unless you can get him on the drug front, the maybe the D.A. would let the murder come in. Of course you need evidence to get him in the first place. I'll keep trawling through this, but until then, I'm extremely sorry."

--

22nd October 1996

Alley outside Three Bells Tavern; Washington, D.C.

Three p.m.

For all of Michael Roscoro's vast intelligence network, his gaze didn't quite penetrate law enforcement. He had contacts in the Police, but none in the FBI, indeed, he had no clue they wanted him. Perhaps this was withheld by his subordinates, in hope they might one day take over his business.

"C'mon Mikey, I'm good for it! Just give me a little time!"

"Rex, Rex, Rex. What am I to do with you. Yea gods, is everyone broke. You owe me a lot, several payments now. You credit is dry, just like your supply of heroin. And I know about your flat. The eviction…living on the streets. Hell's bell's, you thought you could keep that from me? Rex, what do you take me for."

"Mikey!"

Roscoro pulled the small silver pistol, cocked it and fired, wincing as a stream of blood made his way off his cheek. There seemed to be some powder burns that had hit an artery, and they fell. It was from the same place when he had killed Angela, and this time the blood would fall unadulterated.

"Hey! What's going on?" The owner of the Tavern had walked out the back. Turning quickly, so the owner didn't see his face, Roscoro fled.

It was to be his undoing.

--

Three hours later, Lilia was up to her eyeballs in blood.

Well, metaphorically speaking of course. She was clad from head to foot to protect both her, and the crime scene, and a small army (within budget constraints, of course) of forensics and technicians. There was a heavy rain forecast for a few hours time, so they were busy cataloguing every blood sample on the ground (there was surprisingly many, but Lilia was always shocked by how much blood there was in a human body.)

Talking about blood…

Lilia looked up, to the sky, and remembered something. 12th February 1989. Only seven years ago, yet she was a young girl then. It happened a year before she had met the intoxicating Clarice Starling; and she had just received her harpy, from 'Matthew Reeves', a then behind-bars Hannibal Lecter. How he had pulled it off, she would never know, but when he had escaped, he had risked exposure contacting her. That struck her as odd, and thoughtful.

Going back to that dark night, she had gone for a walk, and ended up murdering a perfect stranger. A homeless man who snarled at her. He had tasted very good, his soul was obviously satisfying. Now, here she was, on the other side of the law. A soul eater, perhaps the only one in the whole world. Then the heavens had opened and washed away the evidence. That couldn't be allowed to happen now. She must be able to help Clarice.

--

23rd October 1996

J. Edgar Hoover Building; Washington, D.C.

Midnight. The clocks had just turned to a new day, and Lilia had not noticed. All the evidence (plus corpse) had been catalogued and stored, ready for distribution, and Lilia currently had her eye stuck through a microscope. Not daring to hope, she sat up, slugged a mouthful of cola (her macabre sense of humour found the idea delicious), and quickly placed the same eye to another microscope placed side by side. Fingerprints, and blood matches. They had to wait for DNA, but they would have enough for a case. Now, they could raid.

Lilia leaned backwards, and with an elegant motion, picked up the receiver of the phone, and dialled Narcotics, before resuming her upright position and smiling.

"_Starling."_

"I got a match. Blood of victim, and Roscoro, matches file. Fingerprints on a stone from the building. Bullet matches the previous victim, no casing found, it was fired from a revolver. Victim was a junkie, living on the streets. We'll know on DNA in three hours, the computer needs to make sure. Go get a warrant."

"_Oh, bless you, Lilia. Judge Peters should be still up. Want to come with me?"_

"Yes, please."

--

Michael Roscoro Residence; Washington, D.C.

One block away. A black S.W.A.T. van. It was a skeleton team (budget constraints).

"Alright people, listen up," said Starling to the three armoured S.W.A.T.'s, and Lilia, also suited up, "the guy we're after is Michael Roscoro, and he's a drug dealer. Bloodwork says he's HIV-negative, but it's a potentially dangerous environment. Our warrant allows us to arrest all inside. Now D.C.P.D. are having a busy night, but will be along in t-minus thirty minutes to pick up our suspects. Then an FBI team of forensics will comb the place from top to bottom. First up, we need to ascertain the number of people inside, and then choose fast and loud, or slow and quiet. Leigh, you're up. Subtle does it."

Leigh nodded and got out the van into the night. He was back in a few minutes.

"I checked the windows with the scope, and tried heat-seeking, only one that I could make out. Male, fits Roscoro's description."

"Well then," said Starling, putting on a helmet, and picking up a shotgun, "slow and quiet. Anyone know how to pick a lock?"

--

That was a bad joke, every member of the team knew how, but out of Leigh and Perkins, it was Hitchcock who volunteered. The S.W.A.T.'s rifles were all well used, and aimed at the door. Lilia's pistol (which seemed to large for her hands, but she was well versed in it's use), was aimed at her feet. Clarice was taking point, the S.W.A.T.'s behind her, and Lilia covering the rear. All had full body armour, with a ceramic plate covering the chest, and back. Nobody was taking any chances. Lilia's lithe body was struggling with the armour, but she was coping well.

With a slight click, the lock sprang back, and the door slid open.

Then what seemed to be every alarm in the street sounded.

"Crap!" mouthed Clarice, but her words were drowned out by the howl of the claxon. She rushed forward, knocking Hitchcock onto one arm, rifle outstretched. The S.W.A.T.'s stumbled but managed to follow, as did Lilia. The first room had two exits, a staircase to the north, and the other exit to the west. It was from there Roscoro appeared. He had a large rifle, and opened fire. Clarice managed to get behind a wall, and the bricks protected her but Perkins was not so nimble, and he fell to the ground. He had been located sideways, and the armour didn't quite surround there. Blood seeped to the floor.

Leigh had been standing towards the door, and he flew backwards, the force of the bullets knocking him to the ground. He was unhurt (apart from a little bruising). Hitchcock, and Lilia hadn't made it that far yet.

"FBI!" screamed Clarice over the klaxon, "Put the weapon down," but her response was another hail of gunfire.

She stuck her shotgun round the corner of the wall and fired blindly, but it was obvious she missed. Hitchcock took use of the distraction to move to the other side of the doorway, firing as he went. Lilia just stayed back.

Starling and Hitchcock ceased fire after a few moments, and hearing nothing but silence, Clarice used a small periscope (military issue) to peek round the corner. Roscoro had vanished.

The four remaining people, (Leigh had rejoined them) recoiled as the deafening klaxon ceased.

"Leigh," said Starling, "we follow Roscoro. Lilia and Hitchcock, to the door near the stairs, see if there is another way round he went. And radio for backup."

--

Hitchcock still took point, but Lilia had her gun aimed forwards. She was sweating heavily, and strangely anxious. Almost scared.

Five gunshots went off. A rifle, on semi-automatic. Hitchcock and Lilia rushed forward to find Roscoro with a silver gun to Clarice's head, and a rifle aimed at them. Leigh was either dead or dying on the floor, Lilia couldn't tell.

"Come on people," said Roscoro, smiling, "you know the drill. Put your weapons on the floor, and kick them to me."

"Don't," said Clarice, but she was too late, as Hitchcock dropped his rifle to the ground, and stood there. The rule was, you didn't negotiate, but when in the field…well, Hitchcock was scared.

But Lilia didn't drop her pistol, instead allowing it to remain aimed at Roscoro's middle skull. She knew the exact place…it was against regulations…but Roscoro wouldn't let them go…and she needed to do something…and what a mess this was…sweaty and confusing.

Lilia fired.

--

"You could have killed me!" said Clarice, indignant, her face and hair covered with the blood, brain and bone matter of Michael Roscoro, recently deceased. Leigh had joined Perkins, and Hitchcock was shaking on the floor. It turned out it had been his first assignment. It wouldn't be his last, and he would learn from this example. Forensics, FBI, D.C.P.D., and FBI Internal Affairs were swarming over the house like hornets.

Matt Ito was leading the search through the computers. He had thanked Lilia profusely.

In one corner, forgotten by the masses, Clarice and Lilia sat, facing each other. With many pieces of towel, and other items, Lilia was tenderly wiping the remains off Clarice's face and hair. They knew forensics would have enough, and in that moment, both of them came to an understanding. It would be the beginnings of a close friendship, which would ultimately end in death.

--

25th October 1996

Excerpt from FBI Report, regarding Dr Lilia Derevko's shooting of Michael Roscoro

"…Having reviewed the mass of forensic evidence, and testimonials, it is without doubt that Dr Derevko acted in the best interests of justice, in defence of her team. I truly believe that had she been not present, then the remaining members of the team might also be dead…"

FBI Director Tunberry.

--

Home of Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

Late Night. Cold.

Lilia sits in an armchair, the only light coming from the lamp beside her, and she is wrapped up warm.

She is conflicted at her state. Was this some mind game of Dr Lecter's that she had followed so easily, and truly?

She was a murderer. A 'bad guy' to simplify matters. Now she was a mole, a plant. She was working for the 'good guys'. Surely that wasn't meant to happen. It was wrong, even she could see that. _Only_ she could see that.

She wept, because she felt she was losing her soul.

So for Lilia Derevko, this was the day that the world ceased to exist.

--

**Note:** So at this point, chronologically speaking, chapter seven would occur. Right, sorted that out. The bit about cola is true, it does help wash blood out (but not by much), and I'm unsure about the level of contamination used. Due to the level of forensic detail in this section, I decided not to write every single last thing, as that would almost certainly fill a novel on it's own, which I have no intention of doing! But I think it make's sense. What I find difficult is that there are only two chapters left - and I don't want this story to end! But there is a part of me that is desperate to move on to the five and final story in the series - but I want to clear this one up first. The next chapter is going to be very difficult, as I will be bringing us up to the present day, and revisiting events from 'Lessons' - so those that know this story will now realise what I'm rabbiting on about. Hopefully it won't take too long, and I guess I'll see you there. Finally, I hoped you enjoyed it, and please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	16. Ruin

"_From Hell. Well, at least they got the address right."_

_**From Hell: screenplay by Terry Hayes and Rafael Yglesias**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **The snowy sections of this piece seem to have been inspired by the film adaptations of Stephen King's 'Misery' and 'Storm of the Century', which I'm currently watching. I just wanted to try and get some blizzard conditions in here! And I guess there's a small nod to my own 'Ardeur et Neige'. Now, from a historical point of view, I don't know if such a blizzard occurred during the time-frame, so please accept it as dramatic license. Finally, the majority of this chapter is set during the events of my previous story 'Lessons'. Now I haven't directly transposed anything, but obviously I have to keep it the same, for continuity purposes. So here we are, with the penultimate chapter; which contains strong bloody violence.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Ruin

3rd January 1997

Home of Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.

"Why have you rejected me?

Why must I go about mourning,

oppressed by the enemy?

Send forth your light and your truth,

let them guide me;

let them bring me to your holy mountain,

to the place where you dwell."

It was constantly on her mind. Ever since she had read it, it wouldn't leave. Psalm 43. A bible passage.

Lilia Derevko did not believe in a god, as such. In her occasional communications (there had been three) since their meeting two years ago, Dr Lecter had written and shared many things about himself. He wrote of his dead sister, and his believe in a God of irony and malice. But for her, a deity was immaterial, unimportant to her life. If there was such a creature, she was uninterested in making its acquaintance.

So Lilia's reading of religious scriptures was unusual, even for one as interested in literature as her. Snow was falling outside, so heavy it was causing a whiteout. The tiny flakes managed to find their way into everything, be it car engines, or cracks in windows. On the ground was thick ice, and so the snow started to lay. There was very little anyone could do, but wait it out. All residents of D.C. had been advised by the Government to stay at home, unless they needed to travel urgently. The city had effectively shut down. Schools hadn't yet re-opened, for it was still the holidays, and the FBI was operating with only a skeleton staff. So Lilia was taking the opportunity to catch up with a little reading. The heating was blazing fiercely (no power cuts yet, thank goodness), her freezer and fridge (not that she needed them - all she would have to do was to place food outside - was fully stocked, and she was slowly sipping Assam tea, while working through a pile of creaking books, that looked like it would fall over at any second.

"…_let them bring me to your holy mountain,_

_to the place where you dwell."_

Although she didn't know it, but these passages would remain in her heart, in her soul. And when she began to kill again, when it became impossible not to do so, those words would come back to her.

The majority of the Revenant murders took place in caves within mountains, all near Washington, D.C.

Lilia Derevko didn't believe in a God.

But she could be influenced by one…

--

15th February 1997

Washington, D.C.

It was starting again. Ruin, or something like it, and Lilia Derevko was no longer torn.

She loved life, her own, and that of others. But on this cold day, with snow pouring from the heavens again, she no longer denied herself. She wanted to save as many souls as possible from the damnation called Earth. She would be careful, so not to get caught, and she would protect those others, less fortunate, and enlightened as herself.

It was, too put it mildly, a bad situation.

--

17th February 1997

'Revenant' Crime Scene: Washington, D.C.

At first, it was the D.C.P.D. who were involved in trying to solve the murder. When they started to rack up, in the years to come, they wouldn't be linked, until a student, working on a dissertation, started to link several murders in D.C.; including those of 'K.F.C.'

Clarice Starling mistakenly informed Lilia of her own crimes, in the present day, simply because, she was misinformed herself. The information was not always in the right place.

When the figure was in double-digits, the F.B.I. took an interest, handing it swiftly to Behavioural Science. They had no luck (partly because Lilia handled quite a bit of the forensics, and was able to subtly alter them a little).

Clarice Starling would not be assigned to the case until after the Mason Verger debacle (she was still serving warrants, and working on jump-out squads at this point). By then many would have died: and to think; the case might not have been solved had Lilia Derevko not crossed paths with Hannibal Lecter, by placing Clarice Starling's life in mortal jeopardy.

Woulda. Coulda. Shoulda.

The cruel benefits of hindsight.

--

28th March 1997

Home of Winona Davies; Washington, D.C.

"Auntie Winona?" Lilia's voice was clear, and she poked her nose around the door. The house was in darkness, for it was overcast outside. She flicked a light switch, and the hallway was suddenly illuminated. She moved forwards, cautiously.

"Aunt? Auntie?" Her voice grew more concerned, a flicker of fear coming across, no more than a hint.

Her mind flashed backwards, in panic to that pamphlet she had found so long ago. She raced up the stairs, arms revolving frantically, as she pushed herself along.

She burst into her Aunt's bedroom, and was punished by the sight she had dreaded witnessing for so long.

"Auntie?"

--

Winona Davies had died that night, her body finally succumbing to the cancer that had ravished it. Lilia was utterly bereft, grieving for months. She continued to work, though became deeply withdrawn.

The funeral was a quiet affair, and Lilia's mother came to look after her. Yet, because of her age, and lack of usable skills; she was not able to emigrate, and once her visa ran out, she was forced to return.

Lilia was left alone, to continue her life. She wasn't happy…but then, if you think about, when had she ever been?

Answers on a postcard, please.

--

19th October 1999

J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, D.C.

We are two years on, a few months from the new millennium. Safeguards have been put in place to protect the FBI's vast computer network (and VICAP files) from the millennium bug, and Lilia is once again up to her eyeballs in blood.

Wait a second, I actually mean the _victim's _eyeball in front. Singular, removed from body. All Lilia had to do now was determine _which_ body. That's not as easy as it sounds, as now John or Jane Does had come in for months sans an eyeball. It's actually more common than one might think, so the current lack of eyes was unusual in itself.

It was Noonan who had come to talk to Lilia, Jack Crawford was busy on another case, and so the Assistant Director was filling in the breach. Budget cuts, understand.

"We're worried this might be a case of serial-murder," said Noonan, softly.

"Serial?" said Lilia, incredulous, "I have before me one eye-ball. Not even a whole corpse…and you're already jumping to conclusions."

"But you know, all to well, about the lack of eye-less bodies through."

"Maybe we've been lucky," said Lilia, "though I haven't a clue as to why. Assistant Director, my name would be on this form, not yours. And I'm certainly not going to endorse an investigation based on a lack of evidence. It's irresponsible. My recommendation is to hand this to the Violent Crime Section, Missing Persons. Let's see what they can dig up."

"All right," said Noonan, "but if they find anything…"

"It will be upgraded when and if necessary. Now, I'd better get the DNA running through the computer."

--

As it turned out, Noonan was partly right, and after a break of three months, just at the start of the new year, three heavily decomposed corpses appeared. Behavioural Science quickly caught what was dubbed as the 'Eyeball Killer'. He was swiftly tried for Murder One, and sentenced to life imprisonment. Lilia's evidence was crucial to the verdict.

It was to be a break for her, and suddenly, those in the Bureau who had never heard of her, wanted their evidence to be processed by Lilia. As such, she was soon in heavier demand, but as her friendship continued with Clarice, she always made sure Starling's evidence was never off the top of the list.

She was loyal to her friends.

Yet, that didn't stop her killing.

--

present day - Lilia's Descent and Ruin

Very few people on the planet knew the truth of what happened in those caves. The three sole witnesses are either dead, on the run, or not speaking.

During the period, Lilia was recruited to a taskforce exclusively created for her capture. It comprised of Derevko, Matt Ito, Elias Irons (now deceased), and Clarice Starling.

A visit to Florida occurred, and the legendary Will Graham was consulted. Yet with Lilia contaminating her own crime scenes, she was in a unique position.

Then, when Clarice came to pick her up (from Lilia's house), Lilia assaulted her, and kidnapped her. She took Clarice to the mountains where Angela Gray, Alexander Strife, and many others had perished.

You see, Lilia had only the purest intentions, for she wanted to save Clarice's soul. It was just too much.

And then, before she could kill Clarice, she was confronted by Hannibal Lecter. Dr Lecter had returned to Washington to help Clarice solve the murder. Whether he had any intention of doing so, is unknown, but when the lambs life was in danger, he came running. In their communications, Lilia had told Hannibal about the murders, and he had put two and two together.

The knife fight was short, and brutal. It ended with Hannibal slitting Lilia's throat.

Lilia died with her friend's name on her lips.

**Note:** This has been a tremendously difficult chapter to write, not only because much of it has focused on another story I've written, and I didn't want to just copy and paste - hence the overview, instead of in details. For those that wish to read more about Lilia's demise, the full sequence is in Chapter Seven of Lessons (for that matter, could you please read the entire story!). Anyway, one chapter left, but before I write that, I'll complete Ardeur et Neige. So I hope you enjoyed it, and please review.

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


	17. Saying Goodbye

"_Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand._

_I don't care, I'm still free, you can't take the sky from me._

_Take me out, to the black, tell 'em I ain't coming back._

_Burn the land and boil the sea, you can't take the sky from me._

_I have no place that I can be, since I found serenity._

_But you can't take the sky from me."_

_**The Ballad of Serenity (theme from Firefly) by Joss Whedon**_

**HER BURNING HEART  
The Story of Lilia Derevko by JetNoir**

**Note: **Over ahundred and ten pages, over twenty-eight thousand words, many cups of tea and coffee, lots of sleepless nights, one year and three months later, it is done. Her Burning Heart is finished. I feel strangely abandoned, as I have all my other Hannibal stories are finished. It's so strange. So, for the last time, the final chapter…

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Saying Goodbye

present day

Washington, D.C. Cemetery - 7 days after the death of Lilia Derevko

"I've always hated saying goodbye," said Anna Derevko, her voice shaky. She was handsomely dressed in black, with a red shawl thrown around her neck. Her arm was linked with that of Clarice Starling, herself dressed purely in black.

"I still can't believe it myself," said Clarice, tears falling slowly down her face.

"And that fact no-one is here."

"That was partly my doing," said Clarice, "no-one in the Bureau wanted to come. In the FBI no-one wants to admit the truth about Lilia; and how she deceived us. And I know neither you nor she would have wanted a cremation for her…so we say Revenant is dead, and that Lilia was a casualty of that raid. It's truth, in a way; and the FBI avoids the public finding out they had a serial-murderer on their payroll. In this climate of fear, it's the last thing it needs."

"But instead of suicide by omission, it was _monstrum_ Hannibal Lecter."

"Yes," said Clarice, as they looked out on the empty graveyard.

"Hell," spat Anna, "where did it all go wrong? I thought a life here would have been full of opportunity…but it has been a seeming nightmare. How did she manage to cope? And what was Winona doing all these years?"

"I have no idea," said Clarice, "and I still can't quite grasp the truth myself. Lilia was my friend, perhaps my closest friend since Ardelia Mapp was sent away on assignment. She was a bit of a recluse, but she always had time for me. She always _made_ time for me."

"She was a very kind, and caring girl."

"Who just happened to murder people," whispered Clarice, tears flowing down her cheeks, a gesture echoed by Anna.

--

No more words were spoken.

No more words were needed.

The two women stood side by side, alone and abandoned, as the coffin was lowered into the ground, and earth threw upon it. There had been no service.

When it was done, the two women walked away from each other, silently, but with no animosity between them.

Neither saw the other person again.

--

Home of Clarice Starling; Arlington, Virginia - 7 days after the death of Lilia Derevko

It is night.

Clarice Starling is sitting up in bed, the covers tucked tight around her. Ardelia's side of the house they share is still dark and empty. She will not be home for several months.

In Clarice's hands - illuminated by the table lamp beside her - is a letter. One of those sent to her by Hannibal Lecter, during her manic chase for 'Revenant'. The last one, after he had killed her. After he had coldly slit Lilia's throat, and drugged Clarice into oblivion, before making his mistake. It had been sent after he had left her.

But she couldn't accept that he had abandoned her.

Because he hadn't.

"_Dear Clarice,_

_Once again, I'm leaving America…but I couldn't leave without sending a last letter. Do you feel betrayed by your friend's Clarice? More specifically Lilia? From what I learned, hiding in that cave, it seemed that she loved you…in one way or the other. I don't know whether it was meant to be homosexual, maternal, friendship, or simply a disturbed mind trying to seek comfort. A disturbed mind…I suppose that you would believe I was an authority on that._

_The question that has been raised however, is at once both fascinating…and disturbing. I'm talking about trust Clarice. Trust. Will you ever be able to trust another living soul, as you once trusted your friends? Will you lye awake at night, and cry, because your now damaged nature will ever prevent you from finding friendships…hmmm?_

_I have always found solitude to be especially useful. I know that I am different to other people, and how they view me. Yet I view myself as perfectly normal, and everyone else to be the people who are different._

_You have always been an unusual person, Clarice, and it leads me to wonder if this has been your lesson._

_If that is so…then I hope the lesson has been learned."_

She had read it a thousand times since it had first fallen into her hands, and in it's odd words of comfort and solidarity, she took solace.

"Yes, Doctor," she whispered, "the lesson has been learned."

She placed the letter on the nightstand, switched the lamp off, and snuggled down into the warm covers.

So, finally, Clarice Staling falls into a deep sleep; not peaceful, not silent; in which she encounters a little girl in Belvedere, Ohio, whose name is known only as Christine.

--

Excerpt from Senate Oversight Committee; Capitol Hill, Washington, D.C. - 14 days after the death of Lilia Derevko, regarding her infiltration into the Federal Bureau of Investigation

"So what you are saying, Special Agent Starling, is that Doctor Derevko exhibited no signs of unusual behaviour, while you were the Supervising Special Agent, in the Revenant taskforce?"

"That, sir," said Clarice, "is correct."

"Well! I find that rather hard to believe, Agent Starling. Surely someone of your experience would have noticed something? Or are you simply incompetent? Your career was kick-started by the Buffalo Bill case, but where has it led?"

"Senator, I deeply resent your implications. I am not here to be insulted. I am neither incompetent, nor did I aid Lilia in her murders. She was my friend…despite her solitary nature. In all honesty, I still cannot believe that this is all true. I know that this committee has been convened, not to find the truth, but to find a scapegoat, and you will not put that on me again."

"Agent Starling, believe me: if it hadn't been for the testimonial of Director Tunberry, and Special Agents Matthew Ito, and Elias Irons, you would be in prison for sheer incompetence. In conclusion, however, the committee has decided you knew nothing of Doctor Derevko's criminal activities. Now what is this final piece of evidence you wish to bring before us."

Clarice took a sip of water and sighed bitterly. The bureaucrats just had no idea. Looking down, she picked up a sealed plastic bag, with a piece of paper inside.

"While searching through Lilia's house," she said, "I found this document. It is a fragment of a document, from a poem called 'La Vita Nuova', by the Italian poet Dante Alighieri. It reads as follows: He woke her then and trembling and obedient / She ate that burning heart out of his hand; / Weeping I saw him then depart from me."

She paused again, then continued:

"Lilia Derevko was a confused, and conflicted woman. She was nothing short of a genius, but a disturbed upbringing changed her. She became a killer. Now I am sure of one thing, and one thing only. That we will never be able to quantify her, for she is utterly unique. She was capable of acts of extraordinary kindness, and good. She was also capable of acts that were the basest of all mankind. That were truly evil. In all, that fragment of poem sums up Lilia perfectly. Just think about it. And while you are thinking, know that there are many more secrets and lies, locked deep away within Lilia's burning heart."

**fini**

"_Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster._

_And if you gaze into the Abyss, the Abyss gazes also into you."_

_**Friedrich Nietzche**_

**Addendum: The Origin of Lilia**

Now that this story is finally finished, I wanted to write a little about Lilia herself. Originally, I wanted three characters to interact with Clarice, in my previous story 'Lessons'. So, Matt Ito, Elias Irons and Lilia Derevko were born. During the writing of the third chapter, I decided Lilia would be the killer, but I also wrote it, so it could be seen as Elias at that time (so, in retrospect, if it'd turned out to be Matt, it probably would have surprised everyone more!).

Lilia herself was originally inspired by three people. Firstly to Russian Latin dancer: Lilia Kopylova. Secondly to Swedish actress Lena Olin (who plays Russian uber-spy Irina Derevko in spy drama Alias) - but more so the character than the actress herself. Finally, American actress and ballet dancer Summer Glau (who played the mentally disturbed River Tam in Joss Whedon's excellent Firefly, then later reprised her role in the follow-up film Serenity).

So I drew her name, physical characteristics, and some mannerisms from these three people, and then I started to write. And then got carried away. It was the weirdest thing, often it didn't feel at _all_ as if I was writing most of the time, merely transcribing what was taking place in my head. Though it has been astonishingly difficult to write, it had also been the most wonderful experience.

So, in conclusion, I would like to thank Lilia, Lena, and Summer, for providing me with the inspiration to create this character, who I have loved writing about. I would like to thank, Dinloth, S, Starling Clarice M, Forensicgirl20, & hannibalth3cannibal, for all of your reviews, and kind words. And last, but certainly not least, I want to thank Penelope S. Cartwright, for asking me to write Her Burning Heart in the first place - in essence this story was for you -, and also thank you for the providing me with so much wonderful and usefull information about American culture, schools, and so much more, which I couldn't have done without your invaluable help.

So for that last time, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review.

And thank you.

**JetNoir**

**26 September 2006**

**3:58 a.m.**

**Disclaimer: **Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

**JetNoir**


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